A    LiTTLEr 


^^^8 


/?t5 


IN    THE    L*\:>ttN. 


^n4/o# 


LITTLE    PILGRIM 


lijpttnUU  from  faacmillan'a  fHagajme. 


Jy,,...->/|.^.    f^^^ 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1883. 


University  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


IN    THE    UNSEEN. 


284757 


A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 


IN   THE   UNSEEN. 

SHE  had  been  talking  of  dying  only  the  even- 
ing before,  with  a  friend,  and  had  described 
her  own  sensations  after  a  long  illness  when  she 
had  been  at  the  point  of  death.  "  I  suppose," 
she  said,  "  that  I  was  as  nearly  gone  as  any  one 
ever  was  to  come  back  again.  There  was  no 
pain  in  it,  only  a  sense  of  sinking  down,  down 
—  through  the  bed  as  if  nothing  could  hold  me 
or  give  me  support  enough  — but  no  pain." 
And  then  they  had  spoken  of  another  friend  in 
the  same  circumstances,  who  also  had  come  back 
from  the  very  verge,  and  who  described  her  sen- 
sations as  those  of  one  floating  upon  a  summer 
sea  without  pain  or  suffering,  in  a  lovely  nook  of 
the  Mediterranean,  blue  as  the  sky.  These  soft 
and  soothing  images  of  the  passage  which  all 
men  dread  had  been  talked  over  with  low  voices^ 
yet  with  smiles  and  a  grateful  sense  that  "  the" 


6  A    LITTLE    PILGRDL 

warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day  "  were  once 
more  familiar  to  both.  And  very  cheerfully  she 
went  to  rest  that  night,  talking  of  what  was  to  be 
done  on  the  morrow,  and  fell  asleep  sweetly  in 
her  little  room,  with  its  shaded  light  and  curtained 
window,  and  little  pictures  on  the  dim  walls.  All 
was  quiet  in  the  house  :  soft  breathing  of  the 
sleepers,  soft  murmuring  of  the  spring  wind  out- 
side, a  wintry  moon  very  clear  and  full  in  the 
skies,  a  little  town  all  hushed  and  quiet,  every- 
thing lying  xlefenceless,  unconscious,  in  the  safe 
keeping  of  God. 

How  soon  she  woke  no  one  can  tell.  She 
woke  and  lay  quite  still,  half  roused,  half  hushed, 
in  that  soft  languor  that  attends  a  happy  waking. 
She  was  happy  always,  in  the  peace  of  a  heart 
that  was  humble  and  faithful  and  pure,  but  yet 
had  been  used  to  wake  to  a  consciousness  of 
little  pains  and  troubles,  such  as  even  to  her 
meekness  were  sometimes  hard  to  bear.  But  on 
this  morning  there  were  none  of  these.  She  lay 
in  a  kind  of  hush  of  happiness  and  ease,  not 
caring  to  make  any  further  movement,  lingering 
over  the  sweet  sensation  of  that  waking.  She 
had  no  desire  to  move  nor  to  break  the  spell  of 
the  silence  and  peace.  It  was  still  very  eady, 
she  supposed,  and  probably  it  might  be  hours 


A   LIITLE   PILGRn[.  7 

yet  before  any  one  came  to  call  her.  It  might 
even  be  that  she  should  sleep  again.  She  had 
no  wish  to  move,  she  lay  at  such  luxurious  ease 
and  calm.  But  by  and  by,  as  she  came  to  full 
possession  of  her  waking  senses,  it  appeared  to 
her  that  there  was  some  change  in  the  atmos- 
phere, in  the  scene.  There  began  to  steal  into 
the  air  about  her,  the  soft  dawn  as  of  a  summer 
morning,  the  lovely  blueness  of  the  first  opening 
of  daylight  before  the  sun.  It  could  not  be  the 
light  of  the  moon,  which  she  had  seen  before  she 
went  to  bed ;  and  all  was  so  still,  that  it  could 
not  be  the  bustling,  wintry  day  which  comes  at 
that  time  of  the  year  late,  to  find  the  world  awake 
before  it.  This  was  different ;  it  was  like  the 
summer  dawn,  a  soft  suffusion  of  light  growing 
every  moment.  And  by  and  by  it  occurred  to 
her  that  she  was  not  in  the  little  room  where  she 
had  lain  down.  There  were  no  dim  walls  or 
roof,  her  little  pictures  were  all  gone,  the  curtains 
at  her  window.  The  discovery  gave  her  no  un- 
easiness in  that  delightful  calm.  She  lay  still  to 
think  of  it  all,  to  wonder,  yet  undisturbed.  It 
half  amused  her  that  these  things  should  be 
changed,  but  did  not  rouse  her  yet  with  any 
shock  of  alteration.  The  light  grew  fuller  and 
fuller  round,  growing  into  day,  clearing  her  eyes 


8  A    LITTLE   PILGRLM. 

from  the  sweet  mist  of  the  first  waking.  Then 
she  raised  herself  upon  her  arm.  She  was  not  in 
her  room,  she  was  in  no  scene  she  knew.  In- 
deed it  was  scarcely  a  scene  at  all,  nothing  but 
light,  so  soft  and  lovely,  that  it  soothed  and 
caressed  her  eyes.  She  thought  all  at  once  of  a 
summer  morning  when  she  was  a  child,  when  she 
had  woke  in  the  deep  night  which  yet  was  day, 
early,  so  early  that  the  birds  were  scarcely  astir, 
and  had  risen  up  with  a  delicious  sense  of  daring 
and  of  being  all  alone  in  the  mystery  of  the  sun- 
rise, in  the  unawakened  world  which  lay  at  her 
feet  to  be  explored,  as  if  she  were  Eve  just  enter- 
ing upon  Eden.  It  was  curious  how  all  those 
childish  sensations,  long  forgotten,  came  back  to 
her  as  she  found  herself  so  unexpectedly  out  of 
her  sleep  in  the  open  air  and  light.  In  the  rec- 
ollection of  that  lovely  hour,  with  a  smile  at  her- 
self, so  different  as  she  now  knew  herself  to  be, 
she  was  moved  to  rise  and  look  a  little  more 
closely  about  her,  and  see  where  she  was. 

When  I  call  her  a  little  Pilgrim,  I  do  not  mean 
that  she  was  a  child ;  on  the  contrary,  she  was 
not  even  young.  She  was  little  by  nature,  with 
as  little  flesh  and  blood  as  was  consistent  with 
mortal  life ;  and  she  was  one  of  those  who  are 
always  little  for  love.     The  tongue  found  diminu- 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  9 

tives  for  her,  the  heart  kept  her  in  a  perpetual 
youth.  She  was  so  modest  and  so  gentle,  that 
she  always  came  last,  so  long  as  there  was  any  one 
whom  she  could  put  before  her.  But  this  little 
body,  and  the  soul  which  was  not  little,  and  the 
heart  which  was  big  and  great,  had  known  all  the 
round  of  sorrows  that  fill  a  woman's  life,  without 
knowing  any  of  its  warmer  blessings.  She  had 
nursed  the  sick,  she  had  entertained  the  weary, 
she  had  consoled  the  dying.  She  had  gone 
about  the  world,  which  had  no  prize  or  recom- 
pense for  her,  with  a  smile.  Her  little  presence 
had  been  always  bright.  She  was  not  clever; 
you  might  have  said  she  had  no  mind  at  all ;  but 
so  wise  and  right  and  tender  a  heart,  that  it  was 
as  good  as  genius.  This  is  to  let  you  know  what 
this  little  Pilgrim  had  been. 

She  rose  up,  and  it  was  strange  how  like  she 
felt  to  the  child  she  remembered  in  that  still 
summer  morning  so  many  years  ago.  Her  little 
body,  which  had  been  worn  and  racked  with 
pain,  felt  as  light  and  unconscious  of  itself  as 
then.  She  took  her  first  step  forward  with  the 
same  sense  of  pleasure,  yet  of  awe,  suppressed 
delight  and  daring  and  wild  adventure,  yet  per- 
fect safety.  But  then  the  recollection  of  the 
little  room  in  which  she  had  fallen  asleep  came 


lO  A    LITTLE    PILGRBL 

quickly,  strangely  over  her,  confusing  her  mind. 
"  I  must  be  dreaming,  I  suppose,"  she  said  to 
herself,  regretfully ;  for  it  was  all  so  sweet  that 
she  wished  it  to  be  true.  Her  movement  called  , 
her  attention  to  herself,  and  she  found  that  she ' 
was  dressed,  not  in  her  night-dress,  as  she  had 
lain  down,  but  in  a  dress  she  did  not  know.  She 
paused  for  a  moment  to  look  at  it,  and  won- 
der. She  had  never  seen  it  before ;  she  did  not 
make  out  how  it  was  made,  or  what  stuff  it  was, 
but  it  fell  so  pleasantly  about  her,  it  was  so  soft 
and  light,  that  in  her  confused  state  she  abandoned 
that  subject  with  only  an  additional  sense  of  pleas- 
ure. And  now  the  atmosphere  became  more  dis- 
tinct to  her.  She  saw  that  under  her  feet  was  a 
greenness  as  of  close  velvet  turf,  both  cool  and 
warm,  cool  and  soft  to  touch,  but  with  no  damp 
in  it,  as  might  have  been  at  that  early  hour,  and 
with  flowers  showing  here  and  there.  She  stood 
looking  round  her,  not  able  to  identify  the  land- 
scape because  she  was  still  confused  a  little,  and 
then  walked  softly  on,  all  the  time  afraid  lest  she 
should  awake  and  lose  the  sweetness  of  it  all, 
and  the  sense  of  rest  and  happiness.  She  felt  so 
light,  so  airy,  as  if  she  could  skim  across  the  field 
like  any  child.  It  was  bliss  enough  to  breathe 
and  move,  with  every  organ  so  free.     After  more 


A    LIITLE   PILGRIM.  II 

than  fifty  years  of  hard  service  in  the  world,  to 
feel  like  this,  even  in  a  dream  !  She  smiled  to 
herself  at  her  own  pleasure  ;  and  then  once  more, 
yet  more  potently,  there  came  back  upon  her  the 
appearance  of  her  room  in  which  she  had  fallen 
asleep.  How  had  she  got  from  there  to  here  ? 
Had  she  been  carried  away  in  her  sleep,  or  was 
it  only  a  dream,  and  would  she  by  and  by  find 
herself  between  the  four  dim  walls  again  ?  Then 
this  shadow  of  recollection  faded  away  once 
more,  and  she  moved  forward,  walking  in  a  soft 
rapture  over  the  delicious  turf.  Presently  she 
came  to  a  little  mound,  upon  which  she  paused 
to  look  about  her.  Every  moment  she  saw  a 
little  farther :  blue  hills  far  away,  extending  in 
long,  sweet  distance,  an  indefinite  landscape,  but 
fair  and  vast,  so  that  there  could  be  seen  no  end 
to  it,  not  even  the  line  of  the  horizon,  —  save 
at  one  side,  where  there  seemed  to  be  a  great 
shadowy  gateway,  and  something  dim  beyond. 
She  turned  from  the  brightness  to  look  at  this, 
and  when  she  had  looked  for  some  time,  she  saw, 
what  pleased  her  still  more,  though  she  had  been 
so  happy  before,  people  coming  in.  They  were 
too  far  off  for  her  to  see  clearly,  but  many  came, 
each  apart,  one  figure  only  at  a  time.  To  watch 
them  amused  her  in  the  delightful  leisure  of  her 


12  A    LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

mind.  Who  were  they?  she  wondered;  but  no 
doubt  soon  some  of  them  would  come  this  way, 
and  she  would  see.  Then  suddenly  she  seemed 
to  hear,  as  if  in  answer  to  her  question,  some  one 
say,  "  Those  who  are  coming  in  are  the  people 
who  have  died  on  earth."  "  Died !  "  she  said 
to  herself  aloud,  with  a  wondering  sense  of  the 
inappropriateness  of  the  word  which  almost  came 
the  length  of  laughter.  In  this  sweet  air,  with 
such  a  sense  of  life  about,  to  suggest  such  an  idea 
was  almost  ludicrous.  She  was  so  occupied  with 
this,  that  she  did  not  look  round  to  see  who  the 
speaker  might  be.  She  thought  it  over,  amused, 
but  with  some  new  confusion  of  the  mind.  Then 
she  said,  "  Perhaps  I  have  died  too,"  with  a 
laugh  to  herself  at  the  absurdity  of  the  thought. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other  voice,  echoing  that  gen- 
tle laugh  of  hers,  "you  have  died  too." 

She  turned  round,  and  saw  another  standing 
by  her,  a  woman,  younger  and  fairer,  and  more 
stately  than  herself,  but  of  so  sweet  a  counte- 
nance that  our  little  Pilgrim  felt  no  shyness,  but 
recognized  a  friend  at  once.  She  was  more 
occupied  looking  at  this  new  face,  and  feeling 
herself  at  once  so  much  happier  (though  she  had 
been  so  happy  before)  in  finding  a  companion 
who  would  tell  her  what  everything  was,  than  in 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  I3 

considering  what  these  words  might  mean.  But 
just  then  once  more  the  recollection  of  the  four 
walls,  with  their  little  pictures  hanging,  and  the 
window  with  its  curtains  drawn,,  seemed  to  come 
round  her  for  a  moment,  so  that  her  whole  soul 
was  in  a  confusion.  And  as  this  vision  slowly 
faded  away  (though  she  could  not  tell  which  was 
the  vision,  the  darkened  room  or  this  lovely  light), 
her  attention  came  back  to  the  words  at  which 
she  had  laughed,  and  at  which  the  other  had 
laughed  as  she  repeated  them.  Died? — was  it 
possible  that  this  could  be  the  meaning  of  it  all  ? 

"Died?"  she  said,  looking  with  wonder  in 
her  companion's  face,  which  smiled  back  to  her. 
"  But  do  you  mean  —  You  cannot  mean  —  I 
have  never  been  so  well :  I  am  so  strong  f  I  have 
no  trouble  —  anywhere  :  I  am  full  of  Hfe." 

The  other  nodded  her  beautiful  head  with  a 
more  beautiful  smile,  and  the  little  Pilgrim  burst 
out  in  a  great  cry  of  joy,  and  said,  — 

"  Is  this  all  ?  Is  it  over  ?  —  is  it  all  over  ?  Is 
it  possible  that  this  can  be  all?  " 

"Were  you  afraid  of  it?  "  the  other  said. 

There  was  a  little  agitation  for  the  moment 
in  her  heart.  She  was  so  glad,  so  relieved  and 
thankful,  that  it  took  away  her  breath.  She  could 
not  get  over  the  wonder  of  it. 


14  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

"  To  think  one  should  look  forward  to  it  so 
long,  and  wonder,  and  be  even  unhappy  trying  to 
divine  what  it  will  be  —  and  this  all !  " 

"  Ah,  but  the  angel  was  very  gentle  with  you," 
said  the  young  woman ;  "  you  were  so  tender 
and  worn,  that  he  only  smiled  and  took  you  sleep- 
ing. There  are  other  ways.  But  it  is  always 
wonderful  to  think  it  is  over,  as  you  say." 

The  httle  Pilgrim  could  do  nothing  but  talk  of 
it,  as  one  does  after  a  very  great  event.  "  Are 
you  sure,  quite  sure,  it  is  so?"  she  said.  "It 
would  be  dreadful  to  find  it  only  a  dream,  to  go 
to  sleep  again,  and  wake  up  —  there  —  "  This 
thought  troubled  her  for  a  moment.  The  vision 
of  the  bedchamber  came  back ;  but  this  time  she 
felt  it  was  only  a  vision.  "Were  you  afraid  too?" 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  never  thought  of  it  at  all,"  the  beautiful 
stranger  said ;  "  I  did  not  think  it  would  come 
to  me.  But  I  was  very  sorry  for  the  others  to 
whom  it  came,  and  grudged  that  they  should  lose 
the  beautiful  earth,  and  life,  and  all  that  was  so 
sweet." 

"  My  dear  ! "  cried  the  Pilgrim,  as  if  she  had 
never  died,  "  oh,  but  this  is  far  sweeter  !  And  the 
heart  is  so  light,  and  it  is^  happiness  only  to 
breathe.    Is  it  heaven  here?    It  must  be  heaven." 


A    LITTLE   PILGRLM.  1 5 

"  I  do  not  know  if  it  is  heaven.  We  have  so 
many  things  to  learn.  They  cannot  tell  you  every- 
thing at  once,"  said  the  beautiful  lady.  "  I  have 
seen  some  of  the  people  I  was  sorry  for,  and  when 
I  told  them,  we  laughed  —  as  you  and  I  laughed 
just  now  —  for  pleasure." 

"  That  makes  me  think,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim  ; 
"  if  I  have  died,  as  you  say  —  which  is  so  strange, 
and  me  so  living  —  if  I  have  died,  they  will  have 
found  it  out.  The  house  will  be  all  dark,  and 
they  will  be  breaking  their  hearts.  Oh,  how  could 
I  forget  them  in  my  selfishness,  and  be  happy  ! 
I  so  light-hearted,  while  they  —  " 

She  sat  down  hastily,  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands  and  wept.  The  other  looked  at  her 
for  a  moment,  then  kissed  her  for  comfort,  and 
cried  too.  The  two  happy  creatures  sat  there 
weeping  together,  thinking  of  those  they  had  left 
behind,  with  an  exquisite  grief  which  was  not 
unhappiness,  which  was  sweet  with  love  and 
pity.  "And  oh,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "what 
can  we  do  to  tell  them  not  to  grieve  ?  Cannot 
you  send  ?  cannot  you  speak  ?  cannot  one  go  to 
tell  them?  " 

The  heavenly  stranger  shook  her  head. 

"  It  is  not  well,  they  all  say.  Sometimes  one 
has  been  permitted  ;  but  they  do  not  know  you," 


1 6  A    LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

she  said,  with  a  pitiful  look  in  her  sweet  eyes. 
"  My  mother  told  me  that  her  heart  was  so  sick 
for  me,  she  was  allowed  to  go ;  and  she  went 
and  stood  by  me,  and  spoke  to  me,  and  I 
did  not  know  her.  She  came  back  so  sad 
and  sorry,  that  they  took  her  at  once  to  our 
Father ;  and  there,  you  know,  she  found 
that  it  was  all  well.  All  is  well  when  you  are 
there." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "  I  have  been 
thinking  of  other  things.  Of  how  happy  I  was, 
and  of  them  ;  but  never  of  the  Father,  —  just  as 
if  I  had  not  died." 

The  other  smiled  upon  her  with  a  wonderful 
smile. 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  be  offended  —  our  Fa- 
ther —  as  if  he  were  one  of  us  ?  "  she  said. 

And  then  the  little  Pilgrim,  in  her  sudden  grief 
to  have  forgotten  him,  became  conscious  of  a  new 
rapture  unexplainable  in  words.  She  felt  his  un- 
derstanding to  envelop  her  little  spirit  with  a  soft 
and  clear  penetration,  and  that  nothing  she  did 
or  said  could  ever  be  misconceived  more.  "  Will 
you  take  me  to  him?"  she  said,  trembling  yet 
glad,  clasping  her  hands.  And  once  again  the 
other  shook  her  head. 

"  They  will  take  us  both  when  it  is  time,"  she 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  I  7 

said  :  "  we  do  not  go  at  our  own  will.  But  I 
have  seen  our  Brother  —  " 

"  Oh,  take  me  to  him  ! "  the  little  Pilgrim 
cried.  "  Let  me  see  his  face  !  I  have  so  many 
things  to  say  to  him.  I  want  to  ask  him  — 
Oh,  take  me  to  where  I  can  see  his  face  !  " 

And  then  once  again  the  heavenly  lady  smiled. 

"  I  have  seen  him,"  she  said.  "  He  is  always 
about  —  now  here,  now  there.  He  will  come 
and  see  you,  perhaps  when  you  are  not  thinking. 
But  when  he  pleases.  We  do  not  think  here  of 
what  we  will  —  " 

The  little  Pilgrim  sat  very  still,  wondering  at  all 
this.  She  had  thought  when  a  soul  left  the  earth 
that  it  went  at  once  to  God,  and  thought  of 
nothing  more,  except  worship  and  singing  of 
praises.  But  this  was  different  from  her  thoughts. 
She  sat  and  pondered  and  wondered.  She  was 
baffled  at  many  points.  She  was  not  changed,  as 
she  expected,  but  so  much  like  herself ;  still  — 
still  perplexed,  and  feeling  herself  foolish ;  not 
understanding  :  toiling  after  a  something  which 
she  could  not  grasp.  The  only  difference  was 
that  it  was  no  trouble  to  her  now.  She  smiled 
at  herself  and  at  her  dulness,  feeling  sure  that  by 
and  by  she  would  understand. 

'•'And  don't  you   wonder  too?"  she  said  to 


1 8  A   LITTLE   PILGRIAL 

her  companion,  which  was  a  speech  such  as  she 
used  to  make  upon  the  earth,  when  people  thought 
her  httle  remarks  disjointed,  and  did  not  always 
see  the  connection  of  them.  But  her  friend  of 
heaven  knew  what  she  meant. 

"  I  do  nothing  but  wonder,"  she  said,  "  for  it 
is  all  so  natural,  not  what  we  thought." 

"  Is  it  long  since  you  have  been  here  ?  "  the 
Pilgrim  said. 

"  I  came  before  you ;  but  how  long  or  how 
short  I  cannot  tell,  for  that  is  not  how  we  count. 
We  count  only  by  what  happens  to  us.  And 
nothing  yet  has  happened  to  me,  except  that  I 
have  seen  our  Brother.  My  mother  sees  him 
always.  That  means  she  has  lived  here  a  long 
time,  and  well  —  " 

"  Is  it  possible  to  live  ill —  in  heaven?  "  The 
little  Pilgrim's  eyes  grew  large,  as  if  they  were 
going  to  have  tears  in  them,  and  a  little  shadow 
seemed  to  come  over  her.  But  the  other  laughed 
softly,  and  restored  all  her  confidence. 

"  I  have  told  you  I  do  not  know  if  it  is  heaven 
or  not.  No  one  docs  ill,  but  some  do  little,  and 
some  do  much,  just  as  it  used  to  be.  Do  you 
remember  in  Dante  there  was  a  lazy  spirit  that 
stayed  about  the  gates  and  never  got  farther? 
But  perhaps  you  never  read  that." 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  1 9 

"  I  was  not  clever,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  wist- 
fully ;  "  no,  I  never  read  it.  I  wish  I  had  known 
more." 

Upon  which  the  beautiful  lady  kissed  her  again 
to  give  her  courage,  and  said,  — 

"  It  does  not  matter  at  all.  It  all  comes  to 
you,  whether  you  have  known  it  or  not." 

"  Then  your  mother  came  here  long  ago  ?  " 
said  the  Pilgrim.  "  Ah,  then  I  shall  see  my 
mother  too." 

"  Oh,  very  soon,  as  soon  as  she  can  come  ;  but 
there  are  so  many  things  to  do.  Sometimes  we 
can  go  and  meet  those  who  are  coming ;  but  it  is 
not  always  so.  I  remember  that  she  had  a  mes- 
sage. She  could  not  leave  her  business,  you  may 
be  sure,  or  she  would  have  been  here." 

"Then  you  know  my  mother?  Oh,  and  my 
dearest  father  too  ?  " 

"We  all  know  each  other,"  the  lady  said  with 
a  smile. 

"  And  you  ?  did  you  come  to  meet  me  —  only 
out  of  kindness,  though  I  do  not  know  you?" 
the  little  Pilgrim  said. 

"  I  am  nothing  but  an  idler,"  said  the  beauti- 
ful lady,  "  making  acquaintance.  I  am  of  little 
use  as  yet.  I  was  very  hard  worked  before  I 
came  here,  and  they  think  it  well  that  we  should 


20  A    LITTLE    PILGRLM. 

sit  in  the  sun  and  take  a  little  rest,  and  find  things 
out." 

Then  the  little  Pilgrim  sat  still  and  mused,  and 
felt  in  her  heart  that  she  had  found  many  things 
out.  What  she  had  heard  had  been  wonderful,  and 
it  was  more  wonderful  still  to  be  sitting  here  all 
alone,  save  for  this  lady,  yet  so  happy  and  at 
ease.  She  wanted  to  sing,  she  was  so  happy ; 
but  remembered  that  she  was  old,  and  had  lost 
her  voice ;  and  then  remembered  again  that  she 
was  no  longer  old,  and  perhaps  had  found  it 
again.  And  then  it  occuiTed  to  her  to  remem- 
ber how  she  had  learned  to  sing,  and  how  beau- 
tiful her  sister's  voice  was,  and  how  heavenly  to 
hear  her,  —  which  made  her  remember  that  this 
dear  sister  would  be  weeping,  not  singing,  down 
where  she  had  come  from  ;  and  immediately  the 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  I  never  thought  we  should 
cry  when  we  came  here.  I  thought  there  were 
no  tears  in  heaven." 

"  Did  you  think,  then,  that  we  were  all  turned 
into  stone?  "  cried  the  beautiful  lady,  "  It  says 
God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  our  faces, 
which  is  not  like  saying  there  are  to  be  no  tears." 

Upon  which  the  little  Pilgrim,  glad  that  it  was 
permitted  to  be  sorry,  though  she  was  so  happy. 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  21 

allowed  herself  to  think  upon  the  place  she  had 
so  lately  left.  And  she  seemed  to  see  her  little 
room  again,  with  all  the  pictures  hanging  as  she 
had  left  them,  and  the  house  darkened,  and  the 
dear  faces  she  knew  all  sad  and  troubled,  and 
to  hear  them  saying  over  to  each  other  all  the 
little  careless  words  she  had  said  as  if  they  were 
out  of  the  Scriptures,  and  crying  if  any  one  but 
mentioned  her  name,  and  putting  on  crape  and 
black  dresses,  and  lamenting  as  if  that  which 
had  happened  was  something  very  terrible.  She 
cried  at  this,  and  yet  felt  half  inclined  to  laugh, 
but  would  not,  because  it  would  be  disrespectful 
to  those  she  loved.  One  thing  did  not  occur  to 
her,  and  that  was,  that  they  would  be  carrying 
her  body,  which  she  had  left  behind  her,  away  to 
the  grave.  She  did  not  think  of  this,  because  she 
was  not  aware  of  the  loss,  and  felt  far  too  much 
herself  to  think  that  there  was  another  part  of 
her  being  buried  in  the  ground.  From  this  she 
was  aroused  by  her  companion  asking  her  a 
question. 

"  Have  you  left  many  there?  "  she  said. 

"  No  one,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "  to  whom  I 
was  the  first  on  earth ;  but  they  loved  me  all 
the  same ;  and  if  I  could  only,  only  let  them 
know — " 


2  2  A    LITTLE   PILGRDL 

"  But  I  left  one  to  whom  I  was  the  first  on 
earth,"  said  the  other,  with  tears  in  her  beautiful 
eyes ;  "  and  oh,  how  glad  I  should  be  to  be  less 
happy  if  he  might  be  less  sad  ! " 

"  And  you  cannot  go  ?  you  cannot  go  to  him 
and  tell  him?  Oh,  I  wish,"  cried  the  little 
Pilgrim ;  but  then  she  paused,  for  the  wish  died 
all  away  in  her  heart  into  a  tender  love  for  this 
poor,  sorrowful  man  whom  she  did  not  know. 
This  gave  her  the  sweetest  pang  she  had  ever  felt, 
for  she  knew  that  all  was  well,  and  yet  was  so 
sorry,  and  would  have  willingly  given  up  her 
happiness  for  his.  All  this  the  lady  read  in  her 
eyes  or  her  heart,  and  loved  her  for  it ;  and  they 
took  hands  and  were  silent  together,  thinking  of 
those  they  had  left,  as  we  upon  earth  think  of 
those  who  have  gone  from  us,  but  only  with  far 
more  understanding  and  far  greater  love.  "  And 
have  you  never  been  able  to  do  anything  for 
him?"  our  Pilgrim  said. 

Then  the  beautiful  lady's  face  flushed  all  over 
with  the  most  heavenly  warmth  and  light.  Her 
smile  ran  over  like  the  bursting  out  of  the  sun. 
"  Oh,  I  will  tell  you,"  she  said.  "  There  was  a 
moment  when  he  was  very  sad  and  perplexed, 
not  knowing  what  to  think ;  there  was  some- 
thing he  could  not  understand.     Nor   could   I 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  23 

understand,  nor  did  I  know  what  it  was,  until  it 
was  said  to  me, '  You  may  go  and  tell  him.'  And  I 
went  in  the  early  morning  before  he  was  awake, 
and  kissed  him,  and  said  it  in  his  ear.  He  woke 
up  in  a  moment,  and  understood,  and  everything 
was  clear  to  him.  Afterward  I  heard  him  say, 
'  It  is  true  that  the  night  brings  counsel.  I  had 
been  troubled  and  distressed  all  day  long,  but  in 
the  morning  it  was  quite  clear  to  me.'  And  the 
other  answered,  '  Your  brain  was  refreshed,  and 
that  made  your  judgment  clear.'  But  they  never' 
knew  it  was  I  !  That  was  a  great  delight.  The 
dear  souls,  they  are  so  foolish,"  she  cried,  with 
the  sweetest  laughter,  that  ran  into  tears.  "  One 
cries  because  one  is  so  happy ;  it  is  just  a  silly 
old  habit,"  she  said. 

"  And  you  were  not  grieved  —  it  did  not  hurt 
you  —  that  he  did  not  know —  " 

"  Oh,  not  then,  not  then  !  I  did  not  go  to 
him  for  that.  When  you  have  been  here  a  little 
longer,  you  will  see  the  difference.  When  you  go 
for  yourself,  out  of  impatience,  because  it  still 
seems  to  you  that  you  must  know  best,  and  they 
don't  know  you,  then  it  strikes  to  your  heart ; 
but  when  you  go  to  help  them,  —  ah,"  she  cried, 
"  when  he  comes,  how  much  I  shall  have  to  tell 
him  !     '  You  thought  it  was  sleep,  when  it  was  I  ; 


24  A   LITTLE  PILGRIM. 

when  you  woke  so  fresh  and  clear,  it  was  I  that 
kissed  you  ;  you  thought  it  your  duty  to  me  to 
be  sad  afterward,  and  were  angry  with  your- 
self because  you  had  wronged  me  of  the  first 
thoughts  of  your  waking  —  when  it  was  all  me, 
all  through  ! '" 

"  I  begin  to  understand,"  said  the  httle  Pil- 
grim. "  But  why  should  they  not  see  us,  and 
why  should  not  we  tell  them  ?  It  would  seem  so 
natural.  If  they  saw  us,  it  would  make  them  so 
happy  and  so  sure." 

Upon  this  the  lady  shook  her  head. 

"  The  worst  of  it  is  not  that  they  are  not  sure, 
it  is  the  parting.  If  this  makes  us  sorry  here, 
how  can  they  escape  the  sorrow  of  it,  even  if  they 
saw  us  ?  —  for  we  must  be  parted.  We  cannot 
go  back  to  live  with  them,  or  why  should  we  have 
died?  And  then  we  must  all  live  our  lives,  they 
in  their  way,  we  in  ours.  We  must  not  weigh 
them  down,  but  only  help  them  when  it  is  seen 
that  there  is  need  for  it.  All  this  we  shall  know 
better  by  and  by." 

"  You  make  it  so  clear,  and  your  face  is  so 
bright,"  said  our  little  Pilgrim  gratefully,  "you 
must  have  known  a  great  deal,  and  understood 
even  when  you  were  in  the  world." 

"  I  was  as  foolish  as  I  could  be,"   said  the 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  25 

Other,  with  her  laugh  that  was  as  sweet  as  music  ; 
"  yet  thought  I  knew,  and  they  thought  I  knew. 
But  all  that  does  not  matter  now." 

"  I  think  it  matters,  for  look  how  much  you 
have  showed  me.  But  tell  me  one  thing  more  : 
how  was  it  said  to  you  that  you  must  go  and  tell 
him?    Was  it  some  one  who  spoke ?    Was  it  —  " 

Her  face  grew  so  bright  that  all  the  past  bright- 
ness was  as  a  dull  sky  to  this.  It  gave  out  such 
a  light  of  happiness,  that  the  little  Pilgrim  was 
dazzled. 

"  I  was  wandering  about,"  she  said,  "  to  see 
this  new  place.  My  mother  had  come  back  be- 
tween two  errands  she  had,  and  had  come  to  see 
me  and  tell  me  everything ;  and  I  was  straying 
about,  wondering  what  I  was  to  do,  when  suddenly 
I  saw  some  one  coming  along,  as  it  might  be 
now —  " 

She  paused  and  looked  up,  and  the  little  Pil- 
grim looked  up  too,  with  her  heart  beating,  but 
there  was  no  one.  Then  she  gave  a  little  sigh, 
and  turned  and  listened  again. 

"  I  had  not  been  looking  for  him,  or  think- 
ing. You  know  my  mind  is  too  light;  I  am 
pleased  with  whatever  is  before  me.  And  I  was 
so  curious,  for  my  mother  had  told  me  many 
things ;    when   suddenly  I   caught  sight  of  him 


26  A   LITTLE    PILGRENL 

passing  by.  He  was  going  on,  and  when  I  saw 
this  a  panic  seized  me,  lest  he  should  pass  and 
say  nothing.  I  do  not  know  what  I  did.  I 
flung  myself  upon  his  robe,  and  got  hold  of  it,  — 
or  at  least  I  think  so.  I  was  in  such  an  agony 
lest  he  should  pass  and  never  notice  me.  But 
that  was  my  folly.  He  pass  !  As  if  that  could 
be  !  " 

"  And  what  did  he  say  to  you  ?  "  cried  the  httle 
Pilgrim,  her  heart  almost  aching,  it  beat  so  high 
with  sympathy  and  expectation. 

The  lady  looked  at  her  for  a  little  without  say- 
ing anything. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  any  more  than 
I  can  tell  if  this  is  heaven.  It  is  a  mystery.  When 
you  see  him  you  will  know.  It  will  be  all  you 
have  ever  hoped  for,  and  more  besides,  for  he 
understands  everything.  He  knows  what  is  in 
our  hearts  about  those  we  have  left,  and  why  he 
sent  for  us  before  them.  There  is  no  need  to  tell 
him  anything ;  he  knows.  He  will  come  when 
it  is  time ;  and  after  you  have  seen  him  you  will 
know  what  to  do." 

Then  the  beautiful  lady  turned  her  eyes  toward 
the  gate,  and  while  the  httle  Pilgrim  was  still  gaz- 
ing, disappeared  from  her,  and  went  to  comfort 
some   other   stranger.     They  were  dear  friends 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIAL  27 

always,  and  met  often,  but  not  again  in  the  same 
way. 

When  she  was  thus  left  alone  again,  the  little 
Pilgrim  sat  still  upon  the  grassy  mound,  quite 
tranquil  and  happy,  without  wishing  to  move. 
There  was  such  a  sense  of  well-being  in  her,  that 
she  liked  to  sit  there  and  look  about  her,  and 
breathe  the  delightful  air,  like  the  air  of  a  summer 
morning,  without  wishing  for  anything. 

"  How  idle  I  am  !  "  she  said  to  herself,  in  the 
very  words  she  had  often  used  before  she  died ; 
but  then  she  was  idle  from  weakness,  and  now 
from  happiness.  She  wanted  for  nothing.  To 
be  alive  was  so  sweet.  There  was  a  great  deal  to 
think  about  in  what  she  had  heard,  but  she  did 
not  even  think  about  that,  only  resigned  herself 
to  the  delight  of  sitting  there  in  the  sweet  air  and 
being  happy.  Many  people  were  coming  and 
going,  and  they  all  knew  her,  and  smiled  upon 
her,  and  those  who  were  at  a  distance  would 
wave  their  hands.  This  did  not  surprise  her  at 
all,  for  though  she  was  a  stranger,  she  too  felt 
that  she  knew  them  all ;  but  that  they  should  be 
so  kind  was  a  delight  to  her  which  words  could 
not  tell.  She  sat  and  mused  very  sweetly  about 
all  that  had  been  told  her,  and  wondered  whether 


28  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

she  too  might  go  sometimes,  and  with  a  kiss  and 
a  whisper  clear  up  something  that  was  dark  in 
the  mind  of  some  one  who  loved  her.  "  I 
that  never  was  clever  !  "  she  said  to  herself,  with 
a  smile.  And  chiefly  she  thought  of  a  friend 
whom  she  loved,  who  was  often  in  great  per- 
plexity, and  did  not  know  how  to  guide  herself 
amid  the  difficulties  of  the  world. 

The  little  Pilgrim  half  laughed  with  delight, 
and  then  half  cried  with  longing  to  go,  as  the 
beautiful  lady  had  done,  and  make  something 
clear  that  had  been  dark  before,  to  this  friend. 
As  she  was  thinking  what  a  pleasure  it  would  be, 
some  one  came  up  to  her,  crossing  over  the 
flowery  greenness,  leaving  the  path  on  purpose. 
This  was  a  being  younger  than  the  lady  who  had 
spoken  to  her  before,  with  flowing  hair  all  crisped 
with  touches  of  sunshine,  and  a  dress  all  white 
and  soft,  like  the  feathers  of  a  white  dove.  There 
was  something  in  her  face  different  from  that  of 
the  other,  by  which  the  little  Pilgrim  knew  some- 
how, without  knowing  how,  that  she  had  come 
here  as  a  child,  and  grown  up  in  this  celestial 
place.  She  was  tall  and  fair,  and  came  along 
with  so  musical  a  motion,  as  if  her  foot  scarcely 
touched  the  ground,  that  she  might  have  had 
wings  :  and  the  little  Pilgrim  indeed  was  not  sure 


A   LITTLE   PILGRDL  29 

as  she  watched,  whether  it  might  not  perhaps  be 
an  angel ;  for  she  knew  that  there  were  angels 
among  the  blessed  people  who  were  coming  and 
going  about,  but  had  not  been  able  yet  to  find 
one  out.  She  knew  that  this  new-comer  was 
coming  to  her,  and  turned  towards  her  with  a 
smile  and  a  throb  at  her  heart  of  expectation. 
But  when  the  heavenly  maiden  drew  nearer,  her 
face,  though  it  was  so  fair,  looked  to  the  Pilgrim 
like  another  face,  which  she  had  known  very  well, 
—  indeed,  like  the  homely  and  troubled  face  of 
the  friend  of  whom  she  had  been  thinking.  And 
so  she  smiled  all  the  more,  and  held  out  her 
hands  and  said,  "  I  am  sure  I  know  you  ; "  upon 
which  the  other  kissed  her  and  said,  "  We  all 
know^  each  other ;  but  I  have  seen  you  often  be- 
fore you  came  here,"  and  knelt  down  by  her, 
among  the  flowers  that  were  growing,  just  in  front 
of  some  tall  lilies  that  grew  over  her,  and  made 
a  lovely  canopy  over  her  head.  There  was  some- 
thing in  her  face  that  was  like  a  child :  her 
mouth  so  soft,  as  if  it  had  never  spoken  any- 
thing but  heavenly  words,  her  eyes  brown 
and  golden,  as  if  they  were  filled  with  light. 
She  took  the  little  Pilgrim's  hands  in  hers,  and 
held  them  and  smoothed  them  between  her 
own.     These  hands  had  been  very  thin  and  worn 


30  A  LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

before,  but  now,  when  the  Pilgrim  looked  at 
them,  she  saw  that  they  became  softer  and  whiter 
every  moment  with  the  touch  of  this  immortal 
youth. 

"  I  knew  you  were  coming,"  said  the  maiden ; 
"  when  my  mother  has  wanted  me  I  have  seen 
you  there.  And  you  were  thinking  of  her  now : 
that  was  how  I  found  you." 

"  Do  you  know,  then,  what  one  thinks?  "  said 
the  little  Pilgrim,  with  wondering  eyes. 

"  It  is  in  the  air ;  and  when  it  concerns  us  it 
comes  to  us  like  the  breeze.  But  we  who  are 
the  children  here,  we  feel  it  more  quickly  than 
you." 

"  Are  you  a  child?  "  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "  or 
are  you  an  angel?  Sometimes  you  are  like  a 
child ;  but  then  your  face  shines,  and  you  are 
like  —  You  must  have  some  name  for  it  here  ; 
there  is  nothing  among  the  words  I  know."  And 
then  she  paused  a  litde,  still  looking  at  her,  and 
cried,  "  Oh,  if  she  could  but  see  you,  little 
Margaret !  That  would  do  her  most  good  of 
all." 

Then  the  maiden  Margaret  shook  her  lovely 
head.  "  What  does  her  most  good  is  the  will  of 
the  Father,"  she  said. 

At  this  the  little  Pilgrim   felt  once  more  that 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  3 1 

thrill  of  expectation  and  awe.  "  Oh,  child,  you 
have  seen  him?"  she  cried. 

And  the  other  smiled.  "  Have  you  forgotten 
who  they  are  that  always  behold  his  face  ?  We 
have  never  had  any  fear  or  trembling.  We  are 
not  angels,  and  there  is  no  other  name ;  we  are 
the  children.  There  is  something  given  to  us 
beyond  the  others.  We  have  had  no  other 
home." 

"  Oh,  tell  me,  tell  me  !  "  the  little  Pilgrim 
cried. 

Upon  this  Margaret  kissed  her,  putting  her  soft 
cheek  against  hers,  and  said,  "  It  is  a  mystery ; 
it  cannot  be  put  into  words ;  in  your  time  you 
will  know." 

"  When  you  touch  me  you  change  me,  and  I 
grow  like  you,"  the  Pilgrim  said.  "Ah,  if  she 
could  see  us  together,  you  and  me  !  And  will 
you  go  to  her  soon  again?  And  do  you  see 
them  always,  what  they  are  doing  ?  and  take  care 
of  them?" 

"  It  is  our  Father  who  takes  cares  of  them, 
and  our  Lord  who  is  our  Brother.  I  do  his  er- 
rands when  I  am  able.  Sometimes  he  mil  let 
me  go,  sometimes  another,  according  as  it  is 
best.  Who  am  I  that  I  should  take  care  of 
them?     I  serve  them  when  I  may.  " 


32  A   LITTLE   PILGRLM. 

"  But  you  do  not  forget  them  ?  "  the  Pilgrim 
said,  with  wistful  eyes. 

"We  love  them  always,"  said  Margaret,  She 
was  more  still  than  the  lady  who  had  first  spoken 
with  the  Pilgrim.  Her  countenance  was  full  of  a 
heavenly  calm.  It  had  never  known  passion  nor 
anguish.  Sometimes  there  was  in  it  a  far-seeing 
look  of  vision,  sometimes  the  simpHcity  of  a 
child.  "  But  what  are  we  in  comparison?  For 
he  loves  them  more  than  we  do.  When  he  keeps 
us  from  them,  it  is  for  love.  We  must  each  live 
our  own  life." 

"  But  it  is  hard  for  them  sometimes,"  said 
the  little  Pilgrim,  who  could  not  withdraw  her 
thoughts  from  those  she  had  left. 

"  They  are  never  forsaken,"  said  the  angel 
maiden. 

"  But  oh  !  there  are  worse  things  than  sorrow," 
the  little  Pilgrim  said ;  "  there  is  wrong,  there  is 
evil,  Margaret.  Will  not  he  send  you  to  step  in 
before  them,  to  save  them  from  wrong?  " 

"  It  is  not  for  us  to  judge,"  said  the  young 
Margaret,  with  eyes  full  of  heavenly  wisdom ; 
"  our  Brother  has  it  all  in  his  hand.  We  do  not 
read  their  hearts,  like  him.  Sometimes  you  are 
permitted  to  see  the  battle  —  " 

The  little  Pilgrim  covered  her  eyes  with  her 


A   LHTLE   PILGRIM.  ^^ 

hands.  "  I  could  not  —  I  could  not ;  unless  I 
knew  they  were  to  win  the  day  !  " 

"They  will  win  the  day  in  the  end.  But 
sometimes,  when  it  was  being  lost,  I  have  seen 
in  his  face  a  something  —  I  cannot  tell  —  more 
love  than  before.  Something  that  seemed  to  say, 
*  My  child,  my  child,  would  that  I  could  do  it 
for  thee,  my  child  !  '  " 

"  Oh  !  that  is  what  I  have  always  felt,"  cried 
the  Pilgrim,  clasping  her  hands ;  her  eyes  were 
dim,  her  heart  for  a  moment  almost  forgot  its 
blessedness.  "  But  he  could  ;  oh,  little  Margaret, 
he  could  !  You  have  forgotten,  '  Lord,  if  thou 
wilt  thou  canst  — '  " 

The  child  of  heaven  looked  at  her  mutely,  with 
sweet,  grave  eyes,  in  which  there  was  much  that 
confused  her  who  was  a  stranger  here,  and  once 
more  softly  shook  her  head. 

"Is  it  that  he  will  not  then?"  said  the  other 
with  a  low  voice  of  awe.  "  Our  Lord,  who  died 
—  he  —  " 

"  Listen  !  "  said  the  other ;  "  I  hear  his  step  on 
the  way." 

The  little  Pilgrim  rose  up  from  the  mound  on 

which  she  was  sitting.     Her  soul  was  confused 

with  wonder  and  fear.      She  had   thought  that 

an  angel  might  step  between  a  soul  on  earth  and 

:^ 


34  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

sin,  and  that  if  one  but  prayed  and  prayed,  the 
dear  Lord  would  stand  between  and  deliver  the 
tempted.  She  had  meant  when  she  saw  his 
face  to  ask  him  to  save.  Was  not  he  bom, 
did  not  he  live  and  die,  to  save  ?  The  angel ' 
maiden  looked  at  her  all  the  while  with  eyes  that 
understood  all  her  perplexity  and  her  doubt,  but 
spoke .  not.  Thus  it  was  that  before  the  Lord 
came  to  her,  the  sweetness  of  her  first  blessedness 
was  obscured,  and  she  found  that  here  too,  even 
here,  though  in  a  moment  she  should  see  him, 
there  was  need  for  faith.  Young  Margaret,  who 
had  been  kneeling  by  her,  rose  up  too  and  stood 
among  the  lilies,  waiting,  her  soft  countenance 
shining,  her  eyes  turned  towards  him  who  was 
coming.  Upon  her  there  was  no  cloud  nor 
doubt.  She  was  one  of  the  children  of  that  land 
familiar  with  his  presence.  And  in  the  air  there 
was  a  sound  such  as  those  who  hear  it  alone  can 
describe,  —  a  sound  as  of  help  coming  and  safety, 
like  the  sound  of  a  deliverer  when  one  is  in 
deadly  danger,  like  the  sound  of  a  conqueror, 
like  the  step  of  the  dearest  beloved  coming 
home.  As  it  came  nearer,  the  fear  melted  away 
out  of  the  beating  heart  of  the  Pilgrim.  Who 
could  fear  so  near  him?  Her  breath  went  away 
from  her,  her  heart  out  of  her  bosom  to  meet  his 


A    LITTLE    PILGRLM.  35 

coming.  Oh,  never  fear  could  live  where  he 
was  !  Her  soul  was  all  confused,  but  it  was  with 
hope  and  joy.  She  held  out  her  hands  in  that 
amaze,  and  dropped  upon  her  knees,  not  know- 
ing what  she  did. 

He  was  going  about  his  Father's  business,  not 
lingering,  yet  neither  making  haste ;  and  the 
calm  and  peace  which  the  little  Pilgrim  had  seen 
in  the  faces  of  the  blessed  were  but  reflections 
from  the  majestic  gentleness  of  the  countenance  to 
which,  all  quivering  with  happiness  and  wonder, 
she  Ufted  up  her  eyes.  Many  things  there  had 
been  in  her  mind  to  say  to  him.  She  wanted 
to  ask  for  those  she  loved  some  things  which 
perhaps  he  had  overlooked.  She  wanted  to  say, 
"  Send  me."  It  seemed  to  her  that  here  was  the 
occasion  she  had  longed  for  all  her  life.  Oh, 
how  many  times  had  she  wished  to  be  able  to  go 
to  him,  to  fall  at  his  feet,  to  show  him  something 
which  had  been  left  undone,  something  which 
perhaps  for  her  asking  he  would  remember  to  do. 
But  when  this  dream  of  her  Ufe  was  fulfilled, 
and  the  little  Pilgrim,  kneeling,  and  all  shaken 
and  trembling  with  devotion  and  joy,  was  at  his 
feet,  lifting  her  face  to  him,  seeing  him,  hearing 
him  —  then  she  said  nothing  to  him  at  all.  She 
no   longer  wanted  to   say  anything,  or  wanted 


36  A    LITTLE   PILGRIINL 

anything  except  what  he  chose,  or  had  power  to 
think  of  anything  except  that  all  was  well,  and 
everything  —  everything  as  it  should  be  in  his 
hand.  It  seemed  to  her  that  all  that  she  had 
ever  hoped  for  was  fulfilled  when  she  met  the 
look  in  his  eyes.  At  first  it  seemed  too  bright 
for  her  to  meet ;  but  next  moment  she  knew  it 
was  all  that  was  needed  to  light  up  the  world, 
and  in  it  everything  was  clear.  Her  trembling 
ceased,  her  little  frame  grew  inspired  ;  though 
she  still  knelt,  her  head  rose  erect,  drawn  to  him 
like  the  flower  to  the  sun.  She  could  not  tell 
how  long  it  was,  nor  what  was  said,  nor  if  it  was 
in  words.  All  that  she  knew  was  that  she  told 
him  all  that  ever  she  had  thought,  or  wished,  or 
intended  in  all  her  life,  although  she  said  nothing 
at  all ;  and  that  he  opened  all  things  to  her, 
and  showed  her  that  everything  was  well,  and  no 
one  forgotten ;  and  that  the  things  she  would 
have  told  him  of  were  more  near  his  heart  than 
hers,  and  those  to  whom  she  wanted  to  be  sent 
were  in  his  own  hand.  But  whether  this  passed 
with  words  or  without  words,  she  could  not  tell. 
Her  soul  expanded  under  his  eyes  like  a  flower. 
It  opened  out,  it  comprehended  and  felt  and 
knew.  She  smote  her  hands  together  in  her 
wonder  that  she  could  have  missed  seeina;  what 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  37 

was  SO  clear,  and  laughed  with  a  sweet  scorn  at 
her  folly,  as  two  people  who  love  each  other  laugh 
at  the  little  misunderstanding  that  has  parted 
them.  She  was  bold  with  him,  though  she  was 
so  timid  by  nature,  and  ventured  to  laugh  at  her- 
self, not  to  reproach  herself;  for  his  divine  eyes 
spoke  no  blame,  but  smiled  upon  her  folly  too. 
And  then  he  laid  a  hand  upon  her  head,  which 
seemed  to  fill  her  with  currents  of  strength  and 
joy  running  through  all  her  veins.  And  then  she 
seemed  to  come  to  herself,  saying  loud  out,  "  And 
that  I  will !  and  that  I  will  !  "  and  lo,  she  was 
kneeling  on  the  wann,  soft  sod  alone,  and  hear- 
ing the  sound  of  his  footsteps  as  he  went  about 
his  Father's  business,  filling  all  the  air  with 
echoes  of  blessing.  And  all  the  people  who 
were  coming  and  going  smiled  upon  her,  and 
she  knew  they  were  all  glad  for  her  that  she  had 
seen  him,  and  got  the  desire  of  her  heart.  Some 
of  them  waved  their  hands  as  they  passed,  and 
some  paused  a  moment  and  spoke  to  her  with 
tender  congratulations.  They  seemed  to  have 
the  tears  in  their  eyes  for  joy,  remembering  every 
one  the  first  time  they  had  themselves  seen  him, 
and  the  joy  of  it ;  so  that  all  about  there  sounded 
a  concord  of  happy  thoughts  all  echoing  to  each 
other,  "  She  has  seen  the  Lord  !  " 


38  A   LITFLE   PILGRIM. 

Why  did  she  say,  "  And  that  I  will !  and  that 
I  will!"  with  such  fervor  and  delight?  She 
could  not  have  told,  but  yet  she  knew.  The 
first  thing  was  that  she  had  yet  to  wait  and  be- 
lieve until  all  things  should  be  accomplished, 
neither  doubting  nor  fearing,  but  knowing  that 
all  should  be  well ;  and  the  second  was  that  she 
must  delay  no  longer,  but  rise  up  and  serve  the 
Father  according  to  what  was  given  her  as  her 
reward.  When  she  had  recovered  a  little  of 
her  rapture,  she  rose  from  her  knees,  and  stood 
still  for  a  little,  to  be  sure  which  way  she  was  to 
go.  And  she  was  not  aware  what  guided  her, 
but  yet  turned  her  face  in  the  appointed  way 
without  any  doubt.  For  doubt  was  now  gone 
away  forever,  and  that  fear  that  once  gave  her  so 
much  trouble  lest  she  might  not  be  doing  what 
was  best.  As  she  moved  along  she  wondered  at 
herself  more  and  more.  She  felt  no  longer,  as 
at  first,  like  the  child  she  remembered  to  have 
been,  venturing  out  in  the  awful  lovely  stillness 
of  the  morning  before  any  one  was  awake ;  but 
she  felt  that  to  move  along  was  a  deh'ght,  and 
that  her  foot  scarcely  touched  the  grass.  And  her 
whole  being  was  instinct  with  such  lightness  of 
strength  and  life,  that  it  did  not  matter  to  her 
how  far  she  went,  nor  what  she  carried,  nor  if 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  39 

the  way  was  easy  or  hard.  The  way  she  chose 
was  one  of  those  which  led  to  the  great  gate,  and 
many  met  her  coming  from  thence,  with  looks 
that  were  somewhat  bewildered,  as  if  they  did 
not  yet  know  whither  they  were  going  or  what 
had  happened  to  tliem,  —  upon  whom  she  smiled 
as  she  passed  them  with  soft  looks  of  tenderness 
and  sympathy,  knowing  what  they  were  feeling, 
but  did  not  stop  to  explain  to  them,  because  she 
had  something  else  that  had  been  given  her  to 
do.  For  this  is  what  always  follows  in  that 
country  when  you  meet  the  Lord,  that  you  in- 
stantly  know  what  it  is  that  he  would  have  you 
do. 

The  little  Pilgrim  thus  went  on  and  on  toward 
the  gate,  which  she  had  not  seen  when  she  herself 
came  through  it,  having  been  lifted  in  his  arms 
by  the  great  Death  Angel,  and  set  down  softly 
inside,  so  that  she  did  not  know  it,  or  even  the 
shadow  of  it.  As  she  drew  nearer,  the  light  be- 
came less  bright,  though  very  sweet,  like  a  lovely 
dawn,  and  she  wondered  to  herself  to  think  that 
she  had  been  here  but  a  moment  ago,  and  yet  so 
much  had  passed  since  then.  And  still  she  w-as 
not  aware  what  was  her  errand,  but  wondered  if 
she  was  to  go  back  by  these  same  gates,  and  per- 
haps return  where  she  had  been.     She  went  up 


40  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

to  them  very  closely,  for  she  was  curious  to  see 
the  place  through  which  she  had  come  in  her 
sleep,  —  as  a  traveller  goes  back  to  see  the  city 
gate,  with  its  bridge  and  portcullis,  through  which 
he  has  passed  by  night.  The  gate  was  very  great, 
of  a  wonderful,  curious  architecture,  having  strange, 
delicate  arches  and  canopies  above.  Some  parts 
of  them  seemed  cut  very  clean  and  clear ;  but 
the  outlines  were  all  softened  with  a  sort  of  mist 
and  shadow,  so  that  it  looked  greater  and  higher 
than  it  was.  The  lower  part  was  not  one  great 
doorway,  as  the  Pilgrim  had  supposed,  but  had 
innumerable  doors,  all  separate  and  very  narrow, 
so  that  but  one  could  pass  at  a  time,  though  the 
arch  inclosed  all,  and  seemed  filled  with  great 
folding  gates,  in  which  the  smaller  doors  were 
set,  so  that  if  need  arose  a  vast  opening  might 
be  made  for  many  to  enter.  Of  the  little  doors 
many  were  shut  as  the  Pilgrim  approached ;  but 
from  moment  to  moment  one  after  another  would 
be  pushed  softly  open  from  without,  and  some 
one  would  come  in.  The  little  Pilgrim  looked 
at  it  all  with  great  interest,  wondering  which  of 
the  doors  she  herself  had  come  by ;  but  while 
she  stood  absorbed  by  this,  a  door  was  suddenly 
pushed  open  close  by  her,  and  some  one  flung 
forward  into  the  blessed  country,  falling  upon  the 


A   LRTLE   PILGRIM.  4 1 

ground,  and  stretched  out  wild  arms  as  though  to 
clutch  the  very  soil.  This  sight  gave  the  Pilgrim 
a  great  surprise  ;  for  it  was  the  first  time  she  had 
heard  any  sound  of  pain,  or  seen  any  sight  of 
trouble,  since  she  entered  here.  In  that  moment 
she  knew  what  it  was  that  tlie  dear  Lord  had 
given  her  to  do.  She  had  no  need  to  pause  to 
think,  for  her  heart  told  her ;  and  she  did  not 
hesitate,  as  she  might  have  done  in  the  other  life, 
not  knowing  what  to  say.  She  went  forward  and 
gathered  this  poor  creature  into  her  arms,  as  if  it 
had  been  a  child,  and  drew  her  quite  within  the 
land  of  peace ;  for  she  had  fallen  across  the 
threshold,  so  as  to  hinder  any  one  entering  who 
might  be  coming  after  her.  It  was  a  woman, 
and  she  had  flung  herself  upon  her  face,  so  that 
it  was  difficult  for  the  little  Pilgrim  to  see  what 
manner  of  person  it  was  ;  for  though  she  felt  her- 
self strong  enough  to  take  up  this  new-comer  in 
her  arms  and  carry  her  away,  yet  she  forbore, 
seeing  the  will  of  the  stranger  was  not  so.  For 
some  time  this  woman  lay  moaning,  with  now  and 
then  a  great  sob  shaking  her  as  she  lay.  The 
little  Pilgrim  had  taken  her  by  both  her  arms, 
and  drawn  her  head  to  rest  upon  her  own  lap, 
and  was  still  holding  the  hands,  which  the  poor 
creature  had  thrown  out  as  if  to  clutch  the  ground. 


42  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

Thus  she  lay  for  a  little  while,  as  the  little  Pilgrim 
remembered  she  herself  had  lain,  not  wishing  to 
move,  wondering  what  had  happened  to  her; 
then  she  clutched  the  hands  which  grasped  her, 
and  said,  muttering^  — 

"You  are  some  one  new.  Have  you  come  to 
save  me  ?  Oh,  save  me  !  Oh,  save  me  !  Don't 
let  me  die  ! " 

This  was  very  strange  to  the  little  Pilgrim,  and 
went  to  her  heart.  She  soothed  the  stranger, 
holding  her  hands  warm  and  light,  and  stooping 
over  her. 

"  Dear,"  she  said,  "  you  must  try  and  not  be 
afraid." 

"  You  say  so,"  said  the  woman,  "  because  you 
are  well  and  strong.  You  don't  know  what  it  is 
to  be  seized  in  the  middle  of  your  life,  and  told 
that  you  've  got  to  die.  Oh,  I  have  been  a  sin- 
ful creature  !  I  am  not  fit  to  die.  Can't  you 
give  me  something  that  will  cure  me  ?  What  is 
the  good  of  doctors  and  nurses  if  they  cannot 
save  a  poor  soul  that  is  not  fit  to  die  ?  " 

At  this  the  little  Pilgrim  smiled  upon  her, 
always  holding  her  fast,  and  said,  — 

"  Why  are  you  so  afraid  to  die?  " 

The  woman  raised  her  head  to  see  who  it 
was  who  put  such  a  strange  question  to  lier. 


A   LITTLE   PILGRLM.  43 

"You  are  some  one  new,"  she  said.  "  I  have 
never  seen  you  before.  Is  there  any  one  that  is 
not  afraid  to  die?  Would  yoii  like  to  have  to 
give  your  account  all  in  a  moment,  without  any 
time  to  prepare?" 

"  But  you  have  had  time  to  prepare,"  said  the 
Pilgrim. 

"  Oh,  only  a  very,  very  little  time.  And  I  never 
thought  it  was  true.  I  am  not  an  old  woman, 
and  I  am  not  fit  to  die  ;  and  I  'm  poor.  Oh,  if 
I  were  rich,  I  would  bribe  you  to  give  me  some- 
thing to  keep  me  alive.  Won't  you  do  it  for 
pity  ?  —  won't  you  do  it  for  pity  ?  When  you  are 
as  bad  as  I  am,  oh,  you  will  perhaps  call  for  some 
one  to  help  you,  and  find  nobody,  hke  me." 

"  I  will  help  you  for  love,"  said  the  litUe  Pil- 
grim ;  "  some  one  who  loves  you  has  sent  me." 

The  woman  lifted  herself  up  a  little  and  shook 
her  head.  "There  is  nobody  that  loves  me." 
Then  she  cast  her  eyes  round  her  and  began  to 
tremble  again  (for  the  touch  of  the  little  Pilgrim 
had  stilled  her).  "  Oh,  where  am  I?"  she  said. 
"  They  have  taken  me  away  ;  they  have  brought 
me  to  a  strange  place ;  and  you  are  new.  Oh, 
where  have  they  taken  me  ?  —  where  am  I  ?  — 
where  am  I  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Have  they  brought 
me  here  to  die  ?  " 


44  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

Then  the  little  Pilgrim  bent  over  her  and 
soothed  her.  "  You  must  not  be  so  much  afraid 
of  dying ;  that  is  all  over.  You  need  not  fear 
that  any  more,"  she  said  softly ;  "  for  here  where 
you  now  are  we  have  all  died." 

The  woman  started  up  out  of  her  arms,  and 
then  she  gave  a  great  shriek  that  made  the  air 
ring,  and  cried  out,  "  Dead  !  am  I  dead?  "  with 
a  shudder  and  convulsion,  throwing  herself  again 
wildly  with  outstretched  hands  upon  the  ground. 

This  was  a  great  and  terrible  work  for  the  little 
Pilgrim  —  the  first  she  had  ever  had  to  do  —  and 
her  heart  failed  her  for  a  moment ;  but  after- 
ward she  remembered  our  Brother  who  sent  her, 
and  knew  what  was  best.  She  drew  closer  to  the 
new-comer,  and  took  her  hand  again. 

"Try,"  she  said,  in  a  soft  voice,  "  and  think  a 
little.  Do  you  feel  now  so  ill  as  you  were  ?  Do 
not  be  frightened,  but  think  a  little.  I  will  hold 
your  hand.  And  look  at  me  ;  you  are  not  afraid 
of  me?" 

The  poor  creature  shuddered  again,  and  then 
she  turned  her  face  and  looked  doubtfully,  with 
great  dark  eyes  dilated,  and  the  brow  and  cheek 
so  curved  and  puckered  round  them  that  they 
seemed  to  glow  out  of  deep  caverns.  Her  face 
was  full  of  ansjuish  and  fear.     But  as  she  looked 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  45 

at  the  little  Pilgrim,  her  troubled  gaze  softened. 
Of  her  own  accord  she  clasped  her  other  hand 
upon  the  one  that  held  hers,  and  then  she  said 
with  a  gasp,  — 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  you  ;  that  was  not  true 
that  you  said  !  You  are  one  of  the  sisters,  and 
you  want  to  frighten  me  and  make  me  repent !  " 

"  You  do  repent,"  the  Pilgrim  said. 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  poor  woman,  "  what  has  the 
like  of  you  to  do  with  me  ?  Now  I  look  at  you, 
I  never  saw  any  one  that  was  like  you  before. 
Don't  you  hate  me?  —  don't  you  loathe  me?  I 
do  myself.  It 's  so  ugly  to  go  wTong.  I  thmk 
now  I  would  almost  rather  die  and  be  done  with 
it.  You  will  say  that  is  because  I  am  going  to 
get  better.  I  feel  a  great  deal  better  now.  Do 
you  think  I  am  going  to  get  over  it  ?  Oh,  I  am 
better  !  I  could  get  up  out  of  bed  and  walk 
about.  Yes,  but  I  am  not  in  bed,  —  where  have 
you  brought  me  ?  Never  mind,  it  is  a  fine  air ;  I 
shall  soon  get  well  here." 

The  Pilgrim  was  silent  for  a  little,  holding  her 
hands.     And  then  she  said,  — 

"Tell  me  how  you  feel  now,"  in  her  soft  voice. 

The  woman  had  sat  up  and  was  gazing  round 
her.  "It  is  very  strange,"  she  said;  "it  is  all 
confused.     I  think  upon  my  mother  and  the  old 


46  A   LITTLE   PILGRLM. 

prayers  I  used  to  say.  For  a  long,  long  time  1 
always  said  my  prayers  ;  but  now  I  've  got  hard- 
ened, they  say.  Oh,  I  was  once  as  fresh  as  any 
one.  It  all  comes  over  me  now.  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  young  again  —  just  come  out  of  the  coun- 
try.    I  am  sure  that  I  could  walk." 

The  little  Pilgrim  raised  her  up,  holding  her 
by  her  hands ;  and  she  stood  and  gazed  round 
about  her,  making  one  or  two  doubtful  steps. 
She  was  very  pale,  and  the  light  was  dim ;  her 
eyes  peered  into  it  with  a  scared  yet  eager  look. 
She  made  another  step,  then  stopped  again. 

"  I  am  quite  well,"  she  said.  "  I  could  walk 
a  mile.  I  could  walk  any  distance.  What  was 
that  you  said  ?  Oh,  I  tell  you  I  am  better  !  I 
am  not  going  to  die." 

"You  will  never,  never  die,"  said  the  little 
Pilgrim  ;  "  are  you  not  glad  it  is  all  over  ?  Oh,  I 
was  so  glad  !  And  all  the  more  you  should  be 
glad  if  you  were  so  much  afraid." 

But  this  woman  was  not  glad.  She  shrank 
away  from  her  companion,  then  came  close  to 
her  again,  and  gripped  her  with  her  hands. 

"  It  is  your — fun,"  she  said,  "  or  just  to  frighten 
me.  Perhaps  you  think  it  will  do  me  no  harm  as 
I  am  getting  so  well ;  you  want  to  frighten  me  to 
make  me  good.     But  I  mean  to  be  good  without 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  47 

that —  I  do  !  —  I  do  !  When  one  is  so  near  dying 
as  I  have  been  and  yet  gets  better,  —  for  I  am 
going  to  get  better  !  Yes  !  you  know  it  as  well 
as  I." 

The  little  Pilgrim  made  no  reply,  but  stood  by, 
looking  at  her  charge,  not  feeling  that  anything 
was  given  her  to  say,  —  and  she  was  so  new  to  this 
work,  that  there  was  a  little  trembling  in  her,  lest 
she  should  not  do  everything  as  she  ought.  And 
the  woman  looked  round  with  those  anxious  eyes 
gazing  all  about.  The  light  did  not  brighten  as 
it  had  done  when  the  Pilgrim  herself  first  came  to 
this  place.  For  one  thing,  they  had  remained 
quite  close  to  the  gate,  which  no  doubt  threw  a 
shadow.  The  woman  looked  at  that,  and  then 
turned  and  looked  into  the  dim  morning,  and 
did  not  know  where  she  was,  and  her  heart  was 
confused  and  troubled. 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  do  not  know 
where  it  is ;  they  must  have  brought  me  here  in 
my  sleep,  —  where  are  we?  How  strange  to 
bring  a  sick  woman  away  out  of  her  room  in  her 
sleep  !  I  suppose  it  was  the  new  doctor,"  she 
went  on,  looking  very  closely  in  the  little  Pil- 
grim's face  ;  then  paused,  and  drawing  a  long 
breath,  said  softly,  "  It  has  done  me  good.  It  is 
better  air  —  it  is  —  a  new  kind  of  cure  !  " 


45  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

But  though  she  spoke  hke  this,  she  did  not 
convince  herself ;  her  eyes  were  wild  with  won- 
dering and  fear.  She  gripped  the  Pilgrim's  arm 
more  and  more  closely,  and  trembled,  leaning 
upon  her. 

"Why  don't  you  speak  to  me?"  she  said; 
"  why  don't  yon  tell  me  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know 
how  to  live  in  this  place  !  What  do  you  do  ?  — 
how  do  you  speak?  I  am  not  fit  for  it.  And 
what  are  you  ?  I  never  saw  you  before,  nor  any 
one  like  you.  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?  Why 
are  you  so  kind  to  me  ?     Why  —  why  —  " 

And  here  sh?  went  off  into  a  murmur  of  ques- 
tions. Why?  why?  always  holding  fast  by  the 
little  Pilgrim,  always  gazing  round  her,  groping 
as  it  were  in  the  dimness  with  her  great  eyes. 

"  I  have  come  because  our  dear  Lord  who  is 
our  Brother  sent  me  to  meet  you,  and  because  I 
love  you,"  the  little  Pilgrim  said.  • 

"  Love  me  !  "  the  woman  cried,  throwing  up 
her  hands.  "  But  no  one  loves  me  ;  I  have  not 
deserved  it."  Here  she  grasped  her  close  again 
with  a  sudden  clutch,  and  cried  out,  "  If  this  is 
what  you  say,  where  is  God?  " 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  him  ?  "  the  little  Pilgrim  said. 

Upon  which  the  woman  trembled  so,  that  the 
Pilgrim  trembled  too  with  the  quivering  of  her 


A   LIITLE   PILGRIM.  49 

frame  ;  then  loosed  her  hold,  and  fell  upon  her 
face,  and  cried,  — 

"  Hide  me  !  hide  me  !  I  have  been  a  great 
sinner.  Hide  me,  that  he  may  not  see  me  ;  "  and 
widi  one  hand  she  tried  to  draw  the  Pilgrim's  dress 
as  a  veil  between  her  and  something  she  feared. 

"  How  should  I  hide  you  from  him  who  is 
everj^vhere?  and  why  should  I  hide  you  from 
your  Father?"  the  Httle  Pilgrim  said.  This  she 
said  almost  with  indignation,  wondering  that  any 
one  could  put  more  trust  in  her,  who  was  no 
better  than  a  child,  than  in  the  Father  of  all. 
But  then  she  said,  "  Look  into  your  heart,  and  you 
will  see  you  are  not  so  much  afraid  as  you  think. 
This  is  how  you  have  been  accustomed  to  frighten 
yourself  But  now  look  into  your  heart.  You 
thought  you  were  very  ill  at  first,  but  not  now : 
and  you  think  you  are  afraid  ;  but  look  into  your 
heart —  " 

There  was  a  silence ;  and  then  the  woman 
raised  her  head  with  a  wonderful  look,  in  which 
there  was  amazement  and  doubt,  as  if  she  had 
heard  some  joyful  thing,  but  dared  not  yet  be- 
lieve that  it  was  true.  Once  more  she  hid  her 
face  in  her  hands,  and  once  more  raised  it  again. 
Her  eyes  softened ;  a  long  sigh  or  gasp,  like  one 
taking  breath  after  drowning,  shook  her  breast. 
4 


50  A    LITTLE    PILGRBL 

Then  she  said,  "  I  think  —  that  is  true.  But  if 
I  am  not  afraid,  it  is  because  I  am  —  bad.  It  is 
because  I  am  hardened.  Oh,  should  not  I  fear 
him  who  can  send  me  away  into  —  the  lake  that 
burns  —  into  the  pit  —  "  And  here  she  gave  a 
great  cry,  but  held  the  little  Pilgrim  all  the  while 
with  her  eyes,  which  seemed  to  plead  and  ask  for 
better  news. 

Then  there  came  into  the  Pilgrim's  heart  what 
to  say,  and  she  took  the  woman's  hand  again  and 
held  it  between  her  own.  "  That  is  the  change," 
she  said,  "  that  comes  when  we  come  here.  We 
are  not  afraid  any  more  of  our  Father.  We  are 
not  all  happy.  Perhaps  you  will  not  be  happy  at 
first.  But  if  he  says  to  you,  '  Go  ! '  —  even  to  that 
place  you  speak  of — you  will  know  that  it  is 
well,  and  you  will  not  be  afraid.  You  are  not 
afraid  now,  —  oh,  I  can  see  it  in  your  eyes.  You 
are  not  happy,  but  you  are  not  afraid.  You  know 
it  is  the  Father.  Do  not  say  God,  —  that  is  far 
off,  — Father  !"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  holding  up 
the  woman's  hand  clasped  in  her  own.  And 
there  came  into  her  soul  an  ecstasy,  and  tears  that 
were  tears  of  blessedness  fell  from  her  eyes,  and  all 
about  her  tliere  seemed  to  shine  a  light.  When 
she  came  to  herself,  the  woman  who  was  her  charge 
had  come  quite  close  to  her,  and  had  added  her 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  5  I 

Other  hand  to  that  the  Pilgrim  held,  and  was  weep- 
ing and  saying,  "  I  am  not  afraid,"  with  now  and 
then  a  gasp  and  sob,  like  a  child  who  after  a  pas- 
sion of  tears  has  been  consoled,  yet  goes  on  sob- 
bing and  cannot  quite  forget,  and  is  afraid  to  ouii 
that  all  is  well  again.  Then  the  Pilgrim  kissed  her, 
and  bade  her  rest  a  little  ;  for  even  she  herself  felt 
shaken,  and  longed  for  a  little  quiet,  and  to  feel 
the  true  sense  of  the  peace  that  was  in  her  heart. 
She  sat  down  beside  her  upon  tlie  ground,  and 
made  her  lean  her  head  against  her  shoulder,  and 
thus  they  remained  very  still  for  a  little  time,  say- 
ing no  more.  It  seemed  to  the  little  Pilgrim  that 
her  companion  had  fallen  asleep,  and  perhaps  it 
was  so,  after  so  much  agitation.  All  this  time 
there  had  been  people  passing,  entering  by  the 
many  doors.  And  most  of  them  paused  a  little 
to  see  where  they  were,  and  looked  round  them, 
then  went  on  ;  and  it  seemed  to  the  little  Pilgrim 
that  according  to  the  doors  by  which  they  entered 
each  took  a  different  way.  While  she  watched, 
another  came  in  by  the  same  door  as  that  at 
which  the  woman  who  was  her  charge  had  come 
in.  And  he  too  stumbled  and  looked  about  him 
with  an  air  of  great  wonder  and  doubt.  When 
he  saw  her  seated  on  the  ground,  he  came  up  to 
her  hesitating,  as  one  in  a  strange  place  who  does 


52  A   LITTLE   PILGRII\L 

not  want  to  betray  that  he  is  bewildered  and  has 
lost  his  way.  He  came  with  a  httle  pretence  of 
smiling,  though  his  countenance  was  pale  and 
scared,  and  said,  drawing  his  breath  quick,  "  I 
ought  to  know  where  I  am,  but  I  have  lost  my 
head,  I  think.  Will  you  tell  me  which  is  —  the 
way?" 

"  What  way?  "  cried  the  little  Pilgrim  ;  for  her 
strength  was  gone  from  her,  and  she  had  no  word 
to  say  to  him.  He  looked  at  her  with  that  be- 
wilderment on  his  face,  and  said,  "  I  find  myself 
strange,  strange.  I  ought  to  know  wliere  I  am  ; 
but  it  is  scarcely  daylight  yet.  It  is  perhaps 
fooUsh  to  come  out  so  early  in  the  morning." 
This  he  said  in  his  confusion,  not  knowing  where 
he  was,  nor  what  he  said. 

"  I  think  all  the  ways  lead  to  our  Father,"  said 
the  little  Pilgrim  (though  she  had  not  known  this 
till  now) .  "  And  the  dear  Lord  walks  about 
them  all.     Here  you  never  go  astray." 

Upon  this  the  stranger  looked  at  her,  and  asked 
in  a  faltering  voice,  "Are  you  an  angel?"  still 
not  knowing  what  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,  no ;  I  am  only  a  Pilgrim,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"May  I  sit  by  you  a  little?"  said  the  man. 
He  sat  down,  drawing  long  breaths,  as  though  he 


A    LITTLE    PILGRIM.  53 

had  gone  through  great  fatigue ;  and  looked 
about  with  wondering  eyes.  "  You  will  wonder, 
but  I  do  not  know  where  I  am,"  he  said.  *'  I 
feel  as  if  I  must  be  dreaming.  This  is  not  where 
I  expected  to  come.  I  looked  for  something 
very  different ;  do  you  think  there  can  have  been 
any  —  mistake?  " 

"  Oh,  never  that,"  she  said  ;  "  there  are  no 
mistakes  here." 

Then  he  looked  at  her  again,  and  said,  — 
"  I  perceive  that  you  belong  to  this  country, 
though  you  say  you  are  a  pilgrim.  I  should  be 
grateful  if  you  would  tell  me.  Does  one  live  — 
here  ?  And  is  this  all  ?  Is  there  no  —  no  —  but 
I  don't  know  what  word  to  use.  All  is  so  strange, 
different  from  what  I  expected." 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  have  died?  " 
"  Yes  —  yes,  I  am  quite  acquainted  with  that," 
he  :5aid,  hurriedly,  as  if  it  had  been  an  idea  he 
disliked  to  dwell  upon.  "  But  then  I  expected 
—  Is  there  no  one  to  tell  you  where  to  go,  or 
what  you  are  to  be?  or  to  take  any  notice  of 
you?" 

The  httle  Pilgrim  was  startled  by  this  tone. 
She  did  not  umlcrstand  its  meaning,  and  she  had 
not  any  word  to  say  to  him.  She  looked  at  him 
with   as  much  bewilderment  as  he   had  shown 


54  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

when  he  approached  her,  and  replied,  falter- 
ing,— 

"  There  are  a  great  many  people  here ;  but  I 
have  never  heard  if  there  is  any  one  to  tell 
you — " 

"  What  does  it  matter  how  many  people  there 
are  if  you  know  none  of  them?  "  he  said. 

"  We  all  know  each  other,"  she  answered  him  : 
but  then  paused  and  hesitated  a  little,  because 
this  was  what  had  been  said  to  her,  and  of  her- 
self she  was  not  assured  of  it,  neither  did  she 
know  at  all  how  to  de^l  with  this  stranger,  to 
whom  she  had  not  any  commission.  It  seemed 
that  he  had  no  one  to  care  for  him,  and  the  little 
Pilgrim  had  a  sense  of  compassion,  yet  of  trouble 
in  her  heart ;  for  what  could  she  say  ?  And  it 
was  very  strange  to  her  to  see  one  who  was  not 
content  here. 

"  Ah,  but  there  should  be  some  one  to  point 
out  the  way,  and  tell  us  which  is  our  circle,  and 
where  we  ought  to  go,"  he  said.  And  then  he 
too  was  silent  for  a  while,  looking  about  him  as 
all  were  fain  to  do  on  their  first  arrival,  finding 
everything  so  strange.  There  were  people  com- 
ing in  at  every  moment,  and  some  were  met  at 
the  very  threshold,  and  some  went  away  alone 
with  peaceful  faces,  and  there  were  many  groups 


A    LITTLE    PILGRLM.  55 

about  talking  together  in  soft  voices  ;  but  no  one 
interrupted  the  other,  and  though  so  many  were 
there,  each  voice  was  as  clear  as  if  it  had  spokefi 
alone,  and  there  was  no  tumult  of  sound  as  when 
many  people  assemble  together  in  the  lower 
world. 

The  little  Pilgrim  wondered  to  find  herself 
with  the  woman  resting  upon  her  on  one  side, 
and  the  man  seated  silent  on  the  other,  neither 
having,  it  appeared,  any  guide  but  only  herself, 
who  knew  so  little.  How  was  she  to  lead  them 
in  the  paths  which  she  did  not  know?  —  and  she 
was  exhausted  by  the  agitation  of  her  struggle 
with  the  woman  whom  she  felt  to  be  her  charge. 
But  in  this  moment  of  silence  she  had  time  to 
remem.ber  the  face  of  the  Lord,  when  he  gave 
her  this  commission,  and  her  heart  was  strength- 
ened. The  man  all  this  time  sat  and  watched, 
looking  eagerly  all  about  him,  examining  the 
faces  of  those  who  went  and  came  :  and  some- 
times he  made  a  little  start  as  if  to  go  and  speak 
to  some  one  he  knew ;  but  always  drew  back 
again  and  looked  at  the  little  Pilgrim,  as  if  he 
had  said,  "  This  is  the  one  who  will  serve  me 
best."  He  spoke  to  her  again  after  a  while  and 
said,  "  I  suppose  you  are  one  of  the  guides  that 
show  the  way." 


;56  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

"  No,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  anxiously.  "  I 
know  so  little  !  It  is  not  long  since  I  came  here. 
I  came  in  the  early  morning —  " 

"  Why,  it  is  morning  now.  You  could  not  come 
earlier  than  it  is  now.     You  mean  yesterday." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  "  that  yesterday  is 
the  other  side  ;  there  is  no  yesterday  here." 

He  looked  at  her  with  the  keen  look  he  had,  to 
understand  her  the  better ;  and  then  he  said,  — 

"  No  division  of  time  !  I  think  that  must  be 
monotonous.  It  will  be  strange  to  have  no  night ; 
but  I  suppose  one  gets  used  to  everything.  I 
hope  though  there  is  something  to  do.  I  have 
always  lived  a  very  busy  life.  Perhaps  this  is  just 
a  little  pause  before  we  go  —  to  be  —  to  have  — 
to  get  our  —  appointed  place." 

He  had  an  uneasy  look  as  he  said  this,  and 
looked  at  her  with  an  anxious  curiosity,  which  the 
little  Pilgrim  did  not  understand. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  said  softly,  shaking  her 
head.  "  I  have  so  little  experience.  I  have  not 
been  told  of  an  appointed  place." 

The  man  looked  at  her  very  strangely. 

"  I  did  not  think,"  he  said,  "  that  I  should 
have  found  such  ignorance  here.  Is  it  not  well 
known  that  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  God  ?  " 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 


57 


These  words  seemed  to  cause  a  trembling  on 
the  still  air,  and  the  woman  on  the  other  side 
raised  herself  suddenly  up,  clasping  her  hands  : 
and  some  of  those  who  had  just  entered  heard 
tlie  words,  and  came  and  crowded  about  the 
little  Pilgrim,  some  standing,  some  falling  down 
upon  their  knees,  all  with  their  faces  turned 
towards  her.  She  who  had  always  been  so  sim- 
ple and  small,  so  little  used  to  teach ;  she  was 
frightened  with  the  sight  of  all  these  strangers 
crowding,  hanging  upon  her  lips,  looking  to  her 
for  knowledge.  She  knew  not  what  to  do  or  what 
to  say.     The  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "I  do  not  know  anything 
about  a  judgment-seat.  I  know  that  our  Father 
is  here,  and  that  when  we  are  in  trouble  we  are 
taken  to  him  to  be  comforted,  and  that  our  dear 
Lord  our  Brother  is  among  us  every  day,  and 
every  one  may  see  him.  Listen,"  she  said,  stand- 
ing up  suddenly  among  them,  feeling  strong  as  an 
angel.  "  I  have  seen  him  !  though  I  am  nothing, 
so  little  as  you  see,  and  often  silly,  never  clever 
as  some  of  you  are,  I  have  seen  him  !  and  so  will 
all  of  you.  There  is  no  more  that  I  know  of," 
she  said  softly,  clasping  hep  hands.  "  When  you 
see  him  it  comes  into  your  heart  what  you  must 
do." 


58  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

And  then  there  was  a  murmur  of  voices  about 
her,  some  saying  that  was  best,  and  some  wonder- 
ing if  that  were  all,  and  some  crying  if  he  would 
but  come  now  —  while  the  little  Pilgrim  stood 
among  them  with  her  face  shining,  and  they  all 
looked  at  her,  asking  her  to  tell  them  more,  to 
show  them  how  to  find  him.  But  this  was  far 
above  what  she  could  do,  for  she  too  was  not 
much  more  than  a  stranger,  and  had  little  strength. 
She  would  not  go  back  a  step,  nor  desert  those 
who  were  so  anxious  to  know,  though  her  heart 
fluttered  almost  as  it  had  used  to  do  before  she 
died,  what  with  her  longing  to  tell  them,  and 
knowing  that  she  had  no  more  to  say. 

But  in  that  land  it  is  never  permitted  that  one 
who  stands  bravely  and  fails  not  shall  be  left 
without  succor ;  for  it  is  no  longer  needful  there 
to  stand  even  to  death,  since  all  dying  is  over, 
and  all  souls  are  tested.  When  it  was  seen  that 
the  little  Pilgrim  was  thus  surrounded  by  so  many 
that  questioned  her,  there  suddenly  came  about 
her  many  others  from  the  brightness  out  of  which 
she  had  come,  who,  one  going  to  one  hand,  and 
one  to  another,  safely  led  them  into  the  ways  in 
which  their  course  lay :  so  that  the  Pilgrim  was 
free  to  lead  forth  the  woman  who  had  been  given 
her  in  charge,  and  whose  path  lay  in  a  dim,  but 


A    LHTLE    PILGRIM.  59 

pleasant  country,  outside  of  that  light  and  glad- 
ness in  which  the  Pilgrim's  home  was. 

"But,"  she  said,  "you  are  not  to  fear  or  be 
cast  down,  because  he  goes  likewise  by  these 
ways,  and  there  is  not  a  corner  in  all  this  land 
but  he  is  to  be  seen  passing  by ;  and  he  will  come 
and  speak  to  you,  and  lay  his  hand  upon  you ; 
and  afterwards  everything  will  be  clear,  and  you 
will  know  what  you  are  to  do." 

"  Stay  with  me  till  he  comes,  —  oh,  stay  with 
me,"  the  woman  cried,  clinging  to  her  arm. 

"  Unless  another  is  sent,"  the  little  Pilgrim  said. 
And  it  was  nothing  to  her  that  the  air  was  less 
bright  there,  for  her  mind  was  full  of  light,  so 
that,  though  her  heart  still  fluttered  a  little  with 
all  that  had  passed,  she  had  no  longing  to  return, 
nor  to  shorten  the  way,  but  went  by  the  lower 
road  sweetly,  with  the  stranger  hanging  upon  her, 
who  was  stronger  and  taller  than  she.  Thus  they 
went  on,  and  the  Pilgrim  told  her  all  she  knew, 
and  everything  that  came  into  her  heart.  And 
so  full  was  she  of  the  great  things  she  had  to  say, 
that  it  was  a  surprise  to  her,  and  left  her  trem- 
bling, when  suddenly  the  woman  took  away  her 
clinging  hand,  and  flew  forward  with  arms  out- 
spread and  a  cry  of  joy.  The  little  Pilgrim  stood 
still  to  see,  and  on  the  path  before  them  was  a 


6o  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

child,  coming  towards  them  singing,  with  a  look 
such  as  is  never  seen  but  upon  the  faces  of  chil- 
dren who  have  come  here  early,  and  who  behold 
the  face  of  the  Father,  and  have  never  known 
fear  nor  sorrow.  The  woman  flew  and  fell  at  the 
child's  feet,  and  he  put  his  hand  upon  her,  and 
raised  her  up,  and  called  her  "  mother."  Then 
he  smiled  upon  the  little  Pilgrim,  and  led  her 
away. 

"  Now  she  needs  me  no  longer,"  said  the 
Pilgrim ;  and  it  was  a  surprise  to  her,  and  for  a 
moment  she  wondered  in  herself  if  it  was  known 
that  this  child  should  come  so  suddenly  and  her 
work  be  over ;  and  also  how  she  was  to  return 
again  to  the  sweet  place  among  the  flowers  from 
which  she  had  come.  But  when  she  turned  to 
look  if  there  was  any  way,  she  found  one  stand- 
ing by  such  as  she  had  not  yet  seen.  This  was 
a  youth,  with  a  face  just  touched  with  manhood, 
as  at  the  moment  when  the  boy  ends,  when  all  is 
still  fresh  and  pure  in  the  heart ;  but  he  was  taller 
and  greater  than  a  man. 

"  I  am  sent,"  he  said,  "  little  sister,  to  take  you 
to  the  Father ;  because  you  have  been  very  faith- 
ful, and  gone  beyond  your  strength." 

And  he  took  the  little  Pilgrim  by  the  hand,  and 
she  knew  he  was  an  angel ;  and  immediately  the 


A   LITTLE   PILGRLM.  6 1 

sweet  air  melted  about  them  into  light,  and  a 
hush  came  upon  her  of  all  thought  and  all  sense, 
attending  till  she  should  receive  the  blessing,  and 
her  new  name,  and  see  what  is  beyond  telling, 
and  hear  and  understand. 


THE   LITTLE   PILGRIM   GOES   UP 
HIGHER. 


II. 


THE   LITTLE  PILGRIM   GOES  UP 
HIGHER. 

WHEN  the  little  Pilgrim  came  out  of  the 
presence  of  the  Father,  she  found  herself 
in  the  street  of  a  great  city.  But  what  she  saw 
and  heard  when  she  was  with  Him  it  is  not  given 
to  the  tongue  of  mortal  to  say,  for  it  is  beyond 
words,  and  beyond  even  thought.  As  the  mys- 
tery of  love  is  not  to  be  spoken  but  to  be  felt, 
even  in  the  lower  earth,  so,  but  much  less,  is  that 
great  mystery  of  the  love  of  the  Father  to  be 
expressed  in  sound.  The  little  Pilgrim  was  very 
happy  when  she  went  into  that  sacred  place,  but 
there  was  a  great  awe  upon  her,  and  it  might 
even  be  said  that  she  was  afraid  ;  but  when  she 
came  out  again  she  feared  nothing,  but  looked 
with  clear  eyes  upon  all  she  saw,  loving  them, 
but  no  more  overawed  by  them,  having  seen  that 
which  is  above  all.  When  she  came  forth  again 
to  her  common  life  —  for  it  is  not  permitted  save 
for  those  who  have  attained  the  greatest  heights 
5 


66  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

to  dwell  there  —  she  had  no  longer  need  "of  any 
guide,  but  came  alone,  knowing  where  to  go,  and 
walking  where  it  pleased  her,  with  reverence  and 
a  great  delight  in  seeing  and  knowing  all  that  was 
around,  but  no  fear.  It  was  a  great  city,  but  it 
was  not  like  the  great  cities  which  she  had  seen. 
She  understood  as  she  passed  along  how  it  was 
that  those  who  had  been  dazzled  but  by  a  pass- 
ing glance  had  described  the  walls  and  the  pave- 
ment as  gold.  They  were  like  what  gold  is, 
beautiful  and  clear,  of  a  lovely  color,  but  softer 
in  tone  than  metal  ever  was,  and  as  cool  and 
fresh  to  walk  upon  and  to  touch  as  if  they  had 
been  velvet  grass.  The  buildings  were  all  beau- 
tiful, of  eveiy  style  and  form  that  it  is  possible  to 
think  of,  yet  in  great  harmony,  as  if  e\-ery  man 
had  followed  his  own  taste,  yet  all  had  been  so 
combined  and  grouped  by  the  master  architect 
that  each  individual  feature  enhanced  the  effect 
of  the  rest.  Some  of  the  houses  were  greater 
and  some  smaller,  but  all  of  them  were  rich  in 
carvings  and  pictures  and  lovely  decorations,  and 
the  effect  was  as  if  the  richest  materials  had  been 
employed,  marbles  and  beautiful  sculptured  stone, 
and  wood  of  beautiful  tints,  though  the  little  Pil- 
grim knew  that  these  were  not  like  the  marble 
and  stone  she  had  once  known,  but  heavenly 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  67 

representatives  of  them,  far  better  than  they. 
There  were  people  at  work  upon  them,  building 
new  houses  and  making  additions,  and  a  great 
many  painters  painting  upon  them  the  history  of 
the  people  who  lived  there,  or  of  others  who  were 
worthy  that  commemoration.  And  the  streets 
were  full  of  pleasant  sound,  and  of  crowds  going 
and  coming,  and  the  commotion  of  much  busi- 
ness, and  many  things  to  do.  And  this  move- 
ment, and  the  brightness  of  the  air,  and  the 
wonderful  things  that  were  to  be  seen  on  every 
side,  made  the  Pilgrim  gay,  so  that  she  could 
have  sung  with  pleasure  as  she  went  along. 
And  all  who  met  her  smiled,  and  every  group 
exchanged  greetings  as  they  passed  along,  all 
knowing  each  other.  Many  of  them,  as  might 
be  seen,  had  come  there,  as  slie  did,  to  see  the 
wonders  of  the  beautiful  city  ;  and  all  who  lived 
there  were  ready  to  tell  them  whatever  they  de- 
sired to  know,  and  show  them  the  finest  houses 
and  the  greatest  pictures.  And  this  gave  a  feel- 
ing of  holiday  and  pleasure  which  was  delightful 
beyond  description,  for  all  the  busy  people  about 
were  full  of  sympathy  with  the  strangers,  bidding 
them  welcome,  inviting  them  into  their  houses, 
making  tlic  warmest  fellowship.  And  friends 
were  meeting  continually  on  every  side  ;  but  the 


68  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

Pilgrim  had  no  sense  that  she  was  forlorn  in 
being  alone,  for  all  were  friends  ;  and  it  pleased 
her  to  watch  the  others,  and  see  how  one  turned 
this  way  and  one  another,  every  one  finding  some- 
thing that  delighted  him  above  all  other  things. 
She  herself  took  a  great  pleasure  in  watching  a 
painter,  who  was  standing  upon  a  balcony  a  little 
way  above  her,  painting  upon  a  great  fresco  :  and 
when  he  saw  this  he  asked  her  to  come  up  beside 
him  and  see  his  work.  She  asked  him  a  great 
many  questions  about  it,  and  why  it  was  that  he 
was  working  only  at  the  draperies  of  the  figures, 
and  did  not  touch  their  faces,  some  of  which  were 
already  finished  and  seemed  to  be  looking  at  her, 
as  living  as  she  was,  out  of  the  wall,  while  some 
were  merely  outUned  as  yet.  He  told  her  that 
he  was  not  a  great  painter  to  do  this,  or  to  design 
the  gi-eat  work,  but  that  the  master  would  come 
presently,  who  had  the  chief  responsibility.  "  For 
we  have  not  all  the  same  genius,"  he  said,  "  and 
if  I  were  to  paint  this  head  it  would  not  have  the 
gift  of  life  as  that  one  has ;  but  to  stand  by  and 
see  him  put  it  in,  you  cannot  think  what  a  hap- 
piness that  is ;  for  one  knows  every  touch,  and 
just  what  effect  it  will  have,  though  one  could  not 
do  it  one's  self ;  and  it  is  a  wonder  and  a  delight 
perpetual  that  it  should  be  done," 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  69 

The  little  PilgiMm  looked  up  at  him  and  said, 
"  That  is  very  beautiful  to  say.  And  do  you 
never  wish  to  be  like  him  —  to  make  the  lovely, 
living  faces  as  well  as  the  other  parts?  " 

"  Is  not  this  lovely  too?  "  he  said  ;  and  showed 
her  how  he  had  just  put  in  a  billowy  robe,  buoyed 
out  with  the  wind,  and  sweeping  down  from  the 
shoulders  of  a  stately  figure  in  such  free  and 
graceful  folds  that  she  would  have  liked  to  take 
it  in  her  hand  and  feel  the  silken  texture  ;  and 
then  he  told  her  how  absorbing  it  was  to  study 
the  mysteries  of  color  and  the  differences  of  light. 
"  There  is  enough  in  that  to  make  one  happy," 
he  said.  "  It  is  thought  by  some  that  we  will  all 
come  to  the  higher  point  with  work  and  thought : 
but  that  is  not  my  feeling ;  and  whether  it  is  so 
or  not  what  does  it  matter,  for  our  Father  makes 
no  difference  :  and  all  of  us  are  necessary  to 
everything  that  is  done  :  and  it  is  almost  more 
delight  to  see  the  master  do  it  than  to  do  it  with 
one's  own  hand.  For  one  thing,  your  own  work 
may  rejoice  you  in  your  heart,  but  always  with  a 
little  trembling  because  it  is  never  so  perfect  as 
you  would  have  it  —  whereas  in  your  master's 
work  you  have  full  content,  because  his  idea  goes 
beyond  yours,  and  as  he  makes  every  touch  you 
can  feel  '  That  is  right  —  that  is  complete  —  that 


70  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

is  just  as  it  ought  to  be.'  Do  you  understand 
what  I  mean?"  he  said,  turning  to  her  with  a 
smile. 

"  I  understand  it  perfectly,"  she  cried,  clasping 
her  hands  together  with  the  delight  of  accord. 
"  Don't  you  think  that  is  one  of  the  things  that  are 
so  happy  here?  you  understand  at  half  a  word." 

"  Not  everybody,"  he  said,  and  smiled  upon 
her  Hke  a  brother ;  "  for  we  are  not  all  alike  even 
here." 

"Were  you  a  painter?"  she  said,  "  in  —  in  the 
other  —  " 

"  In  the  old  times.  I  was  one  of  those  that 
strove  for  the  mastery,  and  sometimes  grudged  — * 
We  remember  these  things  at  times,"  he  said 
gravely,  "  to  make  us  more  aware  of  the  blessed- 
ness of  being  content." 

"  It  is  long  since  then?"  she  said  with  some 
wistfulness  ;  upon  which  he  smiled  again. 

"So  long,"  he  said,  "that  we  have  worn  out 
most  of  our  links  to  the  world  below.  We  have 
all  come  away,  and  those  who  were  after  us  for 
generations.     But  you  are  a  new-comer." 

"  And  are  they  all  with  you  ?  are  you  all  —  to- 
gether? do  you  live  —  as  in  the  old  time?  " 

Upon  this  the  painter  smiled,  but  not  so  brightly 
as  before. 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  7 1 

"  Not  as  in  the  old  time,"  he  said,  "  nor  are 
they  all  here.  Some  are  still  upon  the  way,  and  of 
some  v/e  have  no  certainty,  only  news  from  time 
to  time.  The  angels  are  very  good  to  us.  They 
never  miss  an  occasion  to  bring  us  news  ;  for  they 
go  everywhere,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  though  indeed 
she  had  not  known  it  till  now ;  but  it  seemed  to 
her  "as  if  it  had  come  to  her  mind  by  nature  and 
she  had  never  needed  to  be  told. 

"  They  are  so  tender-hearted,"  the  painter 
said  ;  "  and  more  than  that,  they  are  very  curious 
about  men  and  women.  They  have  known  it  all 
from  the  beginning,  and  it  is  a  wonder  to  them. 
There  is  a  friend  of  mine,  an  angel,  who  is  more 
wise  in  men's  hearts  than  any  one  I  know ;  and 
yet  he  will  say  to  me  sometimes, '  I  do  not  under- 
stand you,  —  you  are  wonderful.'  They  like  to 
find  out  all  we  are  thinking.  It  is  an  endless 
pleasure  to  them,  just  as  it  is  to  some  of  us  to 
watch  the  people  in  the  other  worlds." 

"  Do  you  mean  —  where  we  have  come  from  ?  " 
said  the  little  Pilgrim. 

"  Not  always  there.  ^Ve  in  this  city  have  been 
long  separated  from  that  country,  for  all  that  we 
love  are  out  of  it." 

"But  not  here?"  the  little  Pikrim  cried  a^ain. 


f2  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

with  a  little  sorrow  —  a  pang  that  she  knew  was 
going  to  be  put  away  —  in  her  heart. 

"  But  coming  !  coming  !  "  said  the  painter, 
cheerfully ;  "  and  some  were  here  before  us,  and 
some  have  arrived  since.    They  are  everywhere." 

"  But  some  in  trouble  —  some  in  trouble  !  "  she 
cried,  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  We  suppose  so,"  he  said,  gravely ;  "  for  some 
are  in  that  place  which  once  was  called  among  us 
the  place  of  despair." 

"  You  mean  —  "  and  though  the  little  Pilgrim 
had  been  made  free  of  fear,  at  that  word  which 
she  would  not  speak,  she  trembled,  and  the  light 
grew  dim  m  her  eyes. 

"  Well !  "  said  her  new  friend,  "  and  what  then  ? 
The  Father  sees  through  and  through  it  as  he 
does  here ;  they  cannot  escape  him :  so  that 
there  is  Love  near  them  always.  I  have  a  son," 
he  said,  then  sighed  a  little,  but  smiled  again, 
"  who  is  there." 

The  little  Pilgrim  at  this  clasped  her  hands 
with  a  piteous  cry. 

"  Nay,  nay,"  he  said,  "  little  sister ;  my  friend 
I  was  telling  you  of,  the  angel,  brought  me  news 
of  him  just  now.  Indeed  there  was  news  of  him 
through  all  the  city.  Did  you  not  hear  all  the 
bells  ringing?     But  perhaps  that  was  before  you 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  73 

came.  The  angels  who  know  me  best  came  one 
after  another  to  tell  me,  and  our  Lord  himself 
came  to  wish  me  joy.    My  son  had  found  the  way." 

The  little  Pilgrim  did  not  understand  this,  and 
almost  thought  that  the  painter  must  be  mistaken 
or  dreaming.  She  looked  at  liim  very  anxiously 
and  said,  — 

"  I  thought  that  those  unhappy  —  never  came 
out  any  more." 

The  painter  smiled  at  her  in  return,  and 
said,  — 

"  Had  you  children  in  the  old  time  ?  " 

She  paused  a  little  before  she  replied. 

"  I.  had  children  in  love,"  she  said,  "  but  none 
that  were  born  mine." 

"It  is  the  same,"  he  said,  "it  is  the  same; 
and  if  one  of  them  had  sinned  against  you,  injured 
you,  done  wrong  in  any  way,  would  you  have  cast 
him  off,  or  what  would  you  have  done?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  little  Pilgrim  again,  with  a 
vivid  light  of  memory  coming  into  her  face,  which 
showed  she  had  no  need  to  think  of  this  as  a 
thing  that  might  have  happened,  but  knew.  "  I 
brought  him  home.  I  nursed  him  well  again. 
I  prayed  for  him  night  and  day.  Did  you  say 
cast  him  off?  when  he  had  most  need  of  me? 
then  I  never  could  have  loved  him,"  she  cried. 


74  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

The  painter  nodded  his  head,  and  his  hand 
with  the  pencil  in  it,  for  he  had  turned  from  his 
picture  to  look  at  her. 

"  Then  you  think  you  love  better  than  our 
Father?"  he  said;  and  turned  to  his  work,  and 
painted  a  new  fold  in  the  robe,  which  looked  as 
if  a  soft  air  had  suddenly  blown  into  it,  and  not 
the  touch  of  a  skilful  hand. 

This  made  the  Pilgrim  tremble,  as  though  in 
her  ignorance  she  had  done  something  wrong. 
After  that  there  came  a  great  joy  into  her  heart. 
"  Oh,  how  happy  you  have  made  me  !  "  she  cried, 
"  I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart  for  you  and  your 
son  —  "  Then  she  paused  a  little  and  added, 
"  But  you  said  he  was  still  there." 

"  It  is  true ;  for  the  land  of  darkness  is  very 
confusing,  they  tell  me,  for  want  of  the  true  light, 
and  our  dear  friends  the  angels  are  not  permitted 
to  help  :  but  if  one  follows  them,  that  shows  the 
way.  You  may  be  in  that  land  yet  on  your  way 
hither.  It  was  very  hard  to  understand  at  first," 
said  the  painter ;  "  there  are  some  sketches  I 
could  show  you.  No  one  has  ever  made  a 
picture  of  it,  though  many  have  tried ;  but  I 
could  show  you  some  sketches  —  if  you  wish  to 
see." 

To  this  the  little  Pilgrim's  look  was  so  plain  an 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  75 

answer  that  the  painter  laid  down  his  pallet  and 
his  brush,  and  left  his  work,  to  show  them  to  her 
as  he  had  promised.  They  went  down  from  the 
balcony  and  along  the  street  until  they  came  to 
one  of  the  great  palaces,  where  many  were 
coming  and  ^oing.  Here  they  walked  through 
some  vast  halls,  where  students  were  working  at 
easels,  doing  every  kind  of  beautiful  work  :  some 
painting  pictures,  some  preparing  drawings,  plan- 
ning houses  and  palaces.  The  Pilgrim  would 
have  liked  to  pause  at  every  moment  to  see  one 
lovely  thing  or  another;  but  the  painter  walked 
on  steadily  till  he  came  to  a  room  which  was  full 
of  sketches,  some  of  them  like  pictures  in  little, 
mth  many  figures,  —  some  of  them  only  a  repre- 
sentation of  a  flower,  or  the  wing  of  a  bird. 
"These  are  all  the  master's,"  he  said;  "some- 
times the  sight  of  them  will  be  enough  to  put 
somethmg  great  into  the  mind  of  another.  In 
this  comer  are  the  sketches  I  told  you  of." 
There  were  two  of  them  hanging  together  upon 
the  wall,  and  at  first  it  seemed  to  the  little  Pilgrim 
as  if  they  represented  the  flames  and  fire  of  which 
she  had  read,  and  this  made  her  shudder  for  the 
moment.  But  then  she  saw  that  it  was  a  red 
light  like  a  stormy  sunset,  with  masses  of  clouds 
in  the  sky,  and  a  low  sun  very  fiery  and  dazzling, 


76  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

which  no  doubt  to  a  hasty  glance  must  have 
looked,  with  its  dark  shadows  and  high  lurid 
lights,  like  the  fires  of  the  bottomless  pit.  But 
when  you  looked  down  you  saw  the  reality  what 
it  was.  Tlie  country  that  lay  beneath  was  full  of 
tropical  foliage,  but  with  many  stretches  of  sand 
and  dry  plains,  and  in  the  foreground  was  a 
town,  that  looked  very  prosperous  and  crowded, 
though  the  figures  were  very  minute,  the  subject 
being  so  great ;  but  no  one  to  see  it  would  have 
taken  it  for  anything  but  a  busy  and  wealthy 
place,  in  a  thunderous  atmosphere,  with  a  storm 
coming  on.  In  the  next  there  was  a  section  of 
a  street  with  a  great  banqueting  hall  open  to  the 
view,  and  many  people  sitting  about  the  table. 
You  could  see  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
laughter  and  conversation  going  on,  some  very 
noisy  groups,  but  others  that  sat  more  quietly  in 
corners  and  conversed,  and  some  who  sang,  and 
every  kind  of  entertainment.  The  little  Pilgrim 
was  very  much  astonished  to  see  this,  and  turned 
to  the  painter,  who  answered  her  directly,  though 
she  had  not  spoken,  "  We  used  to  think  differ- 
ently once.  There  are  some  who  are  there  and 
do  not  know  it.  They  think  only  it  is  the  old 
life  over  again,  but  always  worse,  and  they  are 
led  on  in  the  ways  of  evil ;  but  they  do  not  feel 


A    LIITLE   PILGRIM.  77 

the  punishment  until  they  begin  to  find  out  where 
they  are  and  to  struggle,  and  wish  for  other 
things." 

The  little  Pilgrim  felt  her  heart  beat  very  wildly 
while  she  looked  at  this,  and  she  thought  upon 
the  rich  man  in  the  parable,  who,  though  he  was 
himself  in  torment,  prayed  that  his  brother  might 
be  saved,  and  she  said  to  herself,  "  Our  dear 
Lord  would  never  leave  him  there  who  could 
think  of  his  brother  when  he  was  himself  in  such 
a  strait."  And  when  she  looked  at  the  painter 
he  smiled  upon  her,-  and  nodded  his  head.  Then 
he  led  her  to  the  other  corner  of  the  room  where 
there  were  other  pictures.  One  of  them  was  of 
a  party  seated  round  a  table  and  an  angel  looking 
on.  The  angel  had  the  aspect  of  a  traveller,  as  if 
he  were  passing  quickly  by  and  had  but  paused 
a  moment  to  look,  and  one  of  the  men  glancing 
up  suddenly  saw  laim.  The  picture  was  dim,  but 
the  startled  look  upon  this  man's  face,  and  the 
sorrow  on  the  angel's,  appeared  out  of  the  misty 
background  with  such  truth  that  the  tears  came 
into  the  little  Pilgrim's  eyes,  and  she  said  in  her 
heart,  "Oh  that  I  could  go  to  him  and  help 
him  ! "  The  other  sketches  were  dimmer  and 
dimmer.  You  seemed  to  see  out  of  the  darkness, 
gleaming  lights,  and  companies  of  revellers,  out  o\ 


78  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

which  here  and  there  was  one  trying  to  escape. 
And  then  the  wide  plains  in  the  night,  and  the 
white  vision  of  the  angel  in  the  distance,  and  here 
and  there  by  different  paths  a  fugitive  striving  to 
follow.  "  Oh,  sir,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "  how 
did  you  learn  to  do  it?  You  have  never  been 
there." 

"  It  was  the  master,  not  I ;  and  I  cannot  tell 
you  if  he  has  ever  been  there.  When  the  Father 
has  given  you  that  gift,  you  can  go  to  many 
places,  without  leaving  the  one  where  you  are. 
And  then  he  has  heard  what  the  angels  say." 

"And  will  they  all  get  safe  at  the  last? 
and  even  that  great  spirit,  he  that  fell  from 
heaven — " 

The  painter  shook  his  head  and  said,  "  It  is 
not  permitted  to  you  and  me  to  know  such  great 
things.  Perhaps  the  wise  will  tell  you  if  you  ask 
them  :  but  for'^me  I  ask  the  Father  in  my  heart 
and  listen  to  what  he  says." 

"  That  is  best ! "  the  litde  Pilgrim  said ;  and 
she  asked  the  Father  in  her  heart:  and  there 
came  all  over  her  such  a  glow  of  warmth  and 
happiness  that  her  soul  was  satisfied.  She  looked 
in  the  painter's  face  and  laughed  for  joy.  And 
he  put  out  his  hands  as  if  welcoming  some  one, 
and  his  countenance  shone  ;  and  he  said,  — 


A   LIITLE   PILGRIM.  79 

"  My  son  had  a  great  gift.  He  was  a  master 
born,  though  it  was  not  given  to  me.  He  shall 
paint  it  all  for  us  so  that  the  heart  shall  rejoice ; 
and  you  will  come  again  and  see." 

After  that  it  happened  to  the  little  Pilgrim  to 
enter  into  another  great  palace  where  there  were 
many  people  reading,  and  some  sitting  at  their 
desks  and  writing,  and  some  consulting  together, 
with  many  great  volumes  stretched  out  open  upon 
the  tables.  One  of  these  who  was  seated  alone 
looked  up  as  she  paused  wondering  at  him,  and 
smiled  as  every  one  did,  and  greeted  her  with 
such  a  friendly  tone  that  the  Pilgrim,  who  always 
had  a  great  desire  to  know,  came  nearer  to  him 
and  looked  at  the  book,  then  begged  his  pardon, 
and  said  she  did  not  know  that  books  were 
needed  here.  And  then  he  told  her  that  he  was 
one  of  the  historians  of  the  city  where  all  the 
records  of  the  world  were  kept,  and  that  it  was 
his  business  to  work  upon  the  great  history,  and 
to  show  what  was  the  meaning  of  the  Father  in 
everything  that  had  happened,  and  how  each 
event  came  in  its  right  place. 

"  And  do  you  get  it  out  of  books  ?  "  she  asked  ; 
for  she  was  not  learned,  nor  wise,  and  knew  but 
little,  though  she  always  loved  to  know. 

"The  books  are  the  records,"  he  said;  "and 


8o  A    LITTLE    riLGRIM. 

there  are  many  here  that  were  never  known  to  us 
in  the  old  days ;  for  the  angels  love  to  look  into 
these  things,  and  they  can  tell  us  much,  for  they 
saw  it ;  and  in  the  great  books  they  have  kept 
there  is  much  put  down  that  was  never  in  the 
books  we  wrote,  for  then  we  did  not  know.  ^Ve 
found  out  about  the  kings  and  the  state,  and 
tried  to  understand  what  great  purposes  they 
were  serving ;  but  even  these  we  did  not  know, 
for  those  purposes  were  too  great  for  us,  not 
knowing  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  the 
hearts  of  men  were  too  great  for  us.  We  com- 
prehended the  evil  sometimes,  but  never  fathomed 
the  good.  And  how  could  we  know  the  lesser 
things  which  were  working  out  God's  way?  for 
some  of  these  even  the  angels  did  not  know ; 
and  it  has  happened  to  me  that  our  Lord  him- 
self has  come  in  sometimes  to  tell  me  of  one  that 
none  of  us  had  discovered." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  "  I  should  like  to  have  been  that  one  !  — 
that  was  not  known  even  to  the  angels,  but  only 
to  Himself!" 

The  historian  smiled.  "  It  was  my  brother," 
he  said. 

The  Pilgrim  looked  at  him  with  great  wonder, 
"  Your  brother,  and  you  did  not  know  him  !  " 


i 


A   LITTLE   PILGRBL  8 1 

And  then  he  turned  over  the  pages  and  showed 
her  where  the  story  was. 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  "  that  we  who  live  here 
are  not  of  your  time,  but  have  Hved  and  lived 
here  till  the  old  life  is  far  away  and  like  a  dream. 
There  were  great  tumults  and  fightings  in  our 
time,  and  it  was  settled  by  the  prince  of  the 
place  that  our  town  was  to  be  abandoned,  and 
all  the  people  left  to  the  mercy  of  an  enemy  who 
had  no  mercy.  But  every  day  as  he  rode  out  he 
saw  at  one  door  a  child,  a  little  fair  boy,  who  sat 
on  the  steps,  and  sang  his  little  song  like  a  bird. 
This  child  was  never  afraid  of  anything,  —  when 
the  horses  pranced  past  him,  and  the  troopers 
pushed  him  aside,  he  looked  up  into  their  faces 
and  smiled.  And  when  he  had  anything,  a  piece 
of  bread,  or  an  apple,  or  a  plaything,  he  shared 
it  with  his  playmates  ;  and  his  little  face,  and  his 
pretty  voice,  and  all  his  pleasant  ways,  made  that 
comer  bright.  He  was  like  a  flower  growing 
there  ;  everybody  smiled  that  saw  him." 

"  I  have  seen  such  a  child,"  the  little  Pilgrim 
said. 

"  But  we  made  no  account  of  him,"  said  the 

historian.     "  The  Lord  of  the  place  came  past 

him  every  day,  and  always  saw  him  singing  in  the 

sun  by  his  father's  door.     And  it  was  a  wonder 

6 


82  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

then,  and  it  has  been  a  wonder  ever  since,  why, 
having  resolved  upon  it,  that  prince  did  not 
abandon  the  town,  which  would  have  changed  all 
his  fortune  after.  Much  had  been  made  clear  to 
me  since  I  began  to  study,  but  not  this  :  till  the 
Lord  himself  came  to  me  and  told  me.  The 
prince  looked  at  the  child  till  he  loved  him,  and 
he  reflected  how  many  children  there  were  like 
this  that  would  be  murdered,  or  starved  to  death, 
and  he  could  not  give  up  the  little  singing  boy 
to  the  sword.  So  he  remained ;  and  the  town 
was  saved,  and  he  became  a  great  king.  It  was 
so  secret  that  even  the  angels  did  not  know  it. 
But  without  that  child  the  history  would  not  have 
been  complete." 

"And  is  he  here?"  the  little  Pilgrim  said. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  historian,  "  that  is  more  strange 
still ;  for  that  which  saved  him  was  also  to  his 
harm.     He  is  not  here.     He  is  Elsewhere." 

The  little  Pilgrim's  face  grew  sad ;  but  then 
she  remembered  what  she  had  been  told. 

" But  you  know,"  she  said,  "that  he  is  com- 
ing?" 

"I  know  that  our  Father  will  never  forsake 
him,  and  that  everything  that  is  being  accom- 
plished in  him  is  well." 

"  Is  it  well  to  suffer  ?     Is  it  well  to  live  in  that 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  83 

dark  stormy  country?     Oh,  that  they  were  all 
here,  and  happy  like  you  !  " 

He  shook  his  head  a  little  and  said,  — 
"  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  got  here  ;  and  as 
for  suffering  that  matters  little.  You  get  experi- 
ence by  it.  You  are  more  accomplished  and  fit 
for  greater  work  in  the  end.  It  is  not  for  noth- 
ing that  we  are  permitted  to  wander ;  and  some- 
times one' goes  to  the  edge  of  despair  —  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  such  wondering  eyes 
that  he  answered  her  without  a  word. 
"Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  there." 
And  then  it  seemed  to  her  that  there  was 
something  in  his  eyes  which  she  had  not  re- 
marked before.  Not  only  the  great  content 
that  was  everywhere,  but  a  deeper  light,  and 
the  air  of  a  judge  who  knew  both  good  and 
evil,  and  could  see  both  sides,  and  understood 
all,  both  to  love  and  to  hate. 

"  Little  sister,"  he  said,  "  you  have  never  wan- 
dered far ;  it  is  not  needful  for  such  as  you. 
Love  teaches  you,  and  you  need  no  more ;  but 
when  we  have  to  be  trained  for  an  office  like  this, 
to  make  the  way  of  the  Lord  clear  through  all 
the  generations,  reason  is  that  we  should  see 
everything,  and  learn  all  that  man  is  and  can  be. 
These  things  are  too  deep  for  us ;  we  stumble 


84  A   UTTLE   PILGRIM. 

on,  and  know  not  till  after.  But  now  to  me  it  is 
all  clear." 

She  looked  at  him  again  and  again  while  he 
spoke,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  saw  in  him 
such  great  knowledge  and  tenderness  as  made 
her  glad  ;  and  how  he  could  understand  the  fol- 
lies that  men  had  done,  and  fathom  what  real 
meaning  was  in  them,  and  disentangle  all  the 
threads.  He  smiled  as  she  gazed  at  him,  and 
answered  as  if  she  had  spoken. 

"  What  was  evil  perishes,  and  what  was  good 
remains ;  almost  everywhere  there  is  a  little 
good.  We  could  not  understand  all  if  we  had 
not  seen  all  and  shared  all." 

"And  the  punishment  too,"  she  said,  wonder- 
ing more  and  more. 

He  smiled  so  joyfully  that  it  was  like  laughter. 

"Pain  is  a  great  angel,"  he  said.  "The  rea- 
son we  hated  him  in  the  old  days  was  because 
he  tended  to  death  and  decay;  but  when  it  is 
towards  life  he  leads,  we  fear  him  no  more.  The 
welcome  thing  of  all  in  the  land  of  darkness  is 
when  you  see  him  first  and  know  who  he  is ; 
for  by  this  you  are  aware  that  you  have  found  the 
way." 

The  little  Pilgrim  did  nothing  but  question 
with  her  anxious  eyes,  for  this  was  such  a  won- 


A    LITl'LE    PILGRIM.  85 

der  to  her,  and  she  could  not  understand.  But 
he  only  sat  musing  with  a  smile  over  the  things 
he  remembered.     And  at  last  he  said,  — 

"  If  this  is  so  interesting  to  you,  you  shall  read 
it  all  in  another  place,  in  the  room  where  we  have 
laid  up  our  own  experiences,  in  order  to  serve 
for  the  history  afterwards.  But  we  are  still  busy 
upon  the  work  of  the  earth.  There  is  always 
something  new  to  be  discovered.  And  it  is 
essential  for  the  whole  world  that  the  chronicle 
should  be  full.  I  am  in  great  joy  because  it  was 
but  just  now  that  our  Lord  told  me  about  that 
child.  Everything  was  imperfect  without  him, 
but  now  it  is  clear." 

"  You  mean  your  brother  ?  And  you  are  happy 
though  you  are  not  sure  if  he  is  happy?"  the 
little  Pilgrim  said. 

"  It  is  not  to  be  happy  that  we  live,"  said  he  ; 
and  then,  "  We  are*  all  happy  so  soon  as  we  have 
found  the  way." 

She  would  have  asked  him  more,  but  that  he 
was  called  to  a  consultation  with  some  others  of 
his  kind,  and  had  to  leave  her,  waving  his  hand 
to  her  with  a  tender  kindness  which  went  to  her 
heart.  She  looked  after  him  with  great  respect, 
scarcely  knowing  why ;  but  it  seemed  to  her  that 
a  man  who  had  been  in  the  land  of  darkness,  and 


86  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

made  his  way  out  of  it,  must  be  more  wonderful 
than  any  other.  She  looked  round  for  a  little 
upon  the  great  library,  full  of  all  the  books  that 
had  ever  been  written,  and  where  people  were 
doing  their  work,  examining  and  reading  and 
making  extracts,  every  one  with  looks  of  so  much 
interest,  that  she  almost  envied  them,  —  though 
it  was  a  generous  delight  in  seeing  people  so 
happy  in  their  occupation,  and  a  desire  to  asso- 
ciate herself  somehow  in  it,  rather  than  any 
grudging  of  their  satisfaction,  that  was  in  her 
mind.  She  went  about  all  the  courts  of  this 
palace  alone,  and  everywhere  saw  the  same  work 
going  on,  and  everywhere  met  the  same  kind 
looks.  Even  when  the  greatest  of  all  looked  up 
from  his  work  and  saw  her,  he  would  give  her  a 
friendly  greeting  and  a  smile ;  and  nobody  was 
too  wise  to  lend  an  ear  to  the  little  visitor,  or  to 
answer  her  questions.  And  this  was  how  it  was 
that  she  began  to  talk  to  another,  who  was  seated 
at  a  great  table  with  many  more,  and  who  drew 
her  to  him  by  something  that  was  in  his  looks, 
though  she  could  not  have  told  what  it  was.  It 
was  not  that  he  was  kinder  than  the  rest,  for  they 
were  all  kind.  She  stood  by  him  a  little,  and  saw 
how  he  worked  and  would  take  something  from 
one  book  and  something  from  another,  putting 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  87 

them  ready  for  use.  And  it  did  not  seem  any- 
trouble  to  do  this  work,  but  only  pleasure,  and 
the  very  pen  in  his  hand  was  like  a  winged  thing, 
as  if  it  loved  to  write.  When  he  saw  her  watch- 
ing him,  he  looked  up  and  showed  her  the  beau- 
tiful book  out  of  whicli  he  was  copying,  which 
was  all  illuminated  with  lovely  pictures. 

"  Thie  is  one  of  the  volumes  of  the  great  his- 
tory," he  said.  "There  are  somethings  in  it 
which  are  needed  for  another,  and  it  is  a  pleas- 
ure to  work  at  it.  If  you  will  come  here  you  will 
be  able  to  see  the  page  while  I  write." 

Then  the  httle  Pilgrim  asked  him  some  ques- 
tions about  the  pictures,  and  he  answered  her, 
describing  and  explaining  them  ;  for  they  were  in 
the  middle  of  the  history,  and  she  did  not  under- 
stand what  it  was.  When  she  said,  "  I  ought  not 
to  trouble  you,  for  you  are  busy,"  he  laughed  so 
kindly  that  she  laughed  too  for  pleasure.  And 
he  said,  — 

"  There  is  no  trouble  here.  When  we  are  not 
allowed  to  work,  as  sometimes  happens,  that 
makes  us  not  quite  so  happy,  but  it  is  very  sel- 
dom that  it  happens  so." 

"  Is  it  for  punishment?  "  she  said. 

And  then  he  laughed  out  with  a  sound  which 
made  all  the  others  look  up  smiling ;  and  if  they 


88  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

had  not  all  looked  so  tenderly  at  her,  as  at  a 
child  who  has  made  such  a  mistake  as  it  is  pretty 
for  the  child  to  make,  she  would  have  feared  she 
had  said  something  wrong ;  but  she  only  laughed 
at  herself  too,  and  blushed  a  little,  knowing  that 
she  was  not-  wise  :  and  to  put  her  at  her  ease 
again,  he  turned  the  leaf  and  showed  her  other 
pictures,  and  the  story  which  went  with  them, 
from  which  he  was  copying  something.  And  he 
said,  — 

"This  is  for  another  book,  to  show  how  the 
grace  of  the  Father  was  beautiful  in  some  homes 
and  families.  It  is  not  the  great  history,  but  con- 
nected with  it ;  and  there  are  many  who  love  that 
better  than  the  story  which  is  more  great." 

Then  the  Pilgrim  looked  in  his  face  and  said,  — 

"  What  I  want  most  is,  to  know  about  your 
homes  here." 

"  It  is  all  home  here,"  he  said,  and  smiled ; 
and  then,  as  he  met  her  wistful  looks,  he  went 
on  to  tell  her  that  he  and  his  brothers  were  not 
always  there.  "We  have  all  our  occupations," 
he  said,  "  and  sometimes  I  am  sent  to  inquire 
into  facts  that  have  happened,  of  which  the 
record  is  not  clear ;  for  we  must  omit  nothing ; 
and  sometimes  we  are  told  to  rest  and  take  in 
new  strength;  and  sometimes  —  " 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  89 

"  But  oh,  forgive  me,"  cried  the  little  Pilgrim, 
"  you  had  some  who  were  more  dear  to  you  than 
all  the  world  in  the  old  time?  " 

And  the  others  all  looked  up  again  at  the 
question,  and  looked  at  her  with  tender  eyes, 
and  said  to  the  man  whom  she  questioned,  — 
"Speak!" 

He  made  a  little  pause  before  he  spoke,  and 
he  looked  at  one  here  and  there,  and  called  to 
them,  — 

"  Patience,  brother,"  and  "  Courage,  brother." 
And  then  he  said,  "  Those  whom  we  loved  best 
are  nearly  all  with  us  ;  but  some  have  not  yet 
come." 

"Oh,"  said  the  little  Pilgi-im,  "but  how  then 
do  you  bear  it,  to  be  parted  so  long  —  so  long?  " 

Then  one  of  those  to  whom  the  first  speaker 
had  called  out  "  Patience  "  rose,  and  came  to 
her  smiling  ;  and  he  said,  — 

"  I  think  every  hour  that  perhaps  she  will 
come,  and  the  joy  will  be  so  great,  that  thinking 
of  that  makes  the  waiting  short :  and  nothing 
here  is  long,  for  it  never  ends  ;  and  it  will  be  so 
wonderful  to  hear  her  tell  how  the  Father  has 
guided  her,  that  it  will  be  a  delight  to  us  all ;  and 
she  will  be  able  to  explain  many  things,  not  only 
for  us,  but  for  all ;  and  we  love  each  other  so 


90  A   LITTLE   PILGRL^L 

that  this  separation  is  as  nothing  in  comparison 
with  what  is  to  come." 

It  was  beautiful  to  hear  this,  but  it  was  not 
what  the  Httle  Pilgrim  expected,  for  she  thought 
they  would  have  told  her  of  the  homes  to  which 
they  all  returned  when  their  work  was  o\er,  and  ' 
a  life  which  was  hke  the  life  of  the  old  time ;  but 
of  this  they  said  nothing,  only  looking  at  her 
with  smiling  eyes,  as  at  the  curious  questions  of 
a  child.  And  there  were  many  other  things  she 
would  have  asked,  but  refrained  when  she  looked 
at  them,  feeling  as  if  she  did  not  yet  understand ; 
when  one  of  them  broke  forth  suddenly  in  a 
louder  voice,  and  said,  — 

"  The  little  sister  knows  only  the  little  language 
and  the  beginning  of  days.  She  has  not  learned 
the  mysteries,  and  what  Love  is,  and  what  life 
is." 

And  another  cried,  "  It  is  sweet  to  hear  it 
again ;  "  and  they  all  gathered  round  her  with 
tender  looks,  and  began  to  talk  to  each  other, 
and  tell  her,  as  men  will  tell  of  the  games  of 
their  childhood,  of  things  that  happened,  which 
were  half-forgotten,  in  the  old  time. 

After  this  the  little  Pilgrim  went  out  again  into 
the  beautiful  city,  feeling  in  her  heart  that  every- 
thing was  a  mystery,  and  that  the  days  would 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  9 1 

never  be  long  enough  to  learn  all  that  had  yet  to 
be  learned,  but  knowing  now  that  this  too  was 
the  little  language,  and  pleased  with  the  sweet 
thought  of  so  much  that  was  to  conie.  For  one 
had  \s-hisi)ered  to  her  as  she  went  out  that  the 
new  tongue,  and  every  explanation,  as  she  was 
ready  for  it,  would  come  to  her  through  one  of 
those  whom  she  loved  best,  which  is  the  usage 
of  that  country.  And  when  the  stranger  has  no 
one  there  that  is  very  dear,  then  it  is  an  angel 
who  teaches  the  greater  language,  and  that  is 
what  happens  often  to  the  children  who  are 
brought  up  in  that  heavenly  place.  When  she 
reached  the  street  again,  she  was  so  pleased  with 
this  thought  that  it  went  out  of  her  mind  to  ask 
her  way  to  the  great  library,  where  she  was  to 
read  the  story  of  the  historian's  journey  through 
the  land  of  darkness ;  indeed  she  forgot  that 
land  altogether,  and  thought  only  of  what  was 
around  her  in  the  great  city,  which  is  beyond 
everything  that  eye  has  seen,  or  that  ear  has 
heard,  or  that  it  has  entered  into  the  imagination 
to  conceive.  And  now  it  seemed  to  her  that  she 
was  much  more  familiar  with  the  looks  of  the 
people,  and  could  distinguish  between  those  who 
belonged  to  the  city  and  those  who  were  visitors 
like  herself;  and  also  could  tell  which  they  were 


92  A    LITTLE   PILGRHL 

who  had  entered  into  the  mysteries  of  the  king- 
dom, and  which  were,  hlce  herself,  only  acquainted 
with  the  beginning  of  days.  And  it  came  to  her 
mind,  she  could  not  tell  how,  that  it  was  best  not 
to  ask  questions,  but  to  wait  until  the  beloved 
one  should  come,  Avho  would  teach  her  the  first 
words.  For  in  the  mean  time  she  did  not  feel  at 
all  impatient  or  disturbed  by  her  want  of  knowl- 
edge, but  laughed  a  little  at  herself  to  suppose 
that  she  could  find  out  everything,  and  went  on 
looking  round  her,  and  saying  a  word  to  every 
one  she  met,  and  enjoying  the  holiday  looks  of 
all  the  strangers,  and  the  sense  she  had  in  her 
heart  of  holiday  too.  She  was  walking  on  in  this 
pleasant  way,  when  she  heard  a  sound  that  was 
like  silver  trumpets,  and  saw  the  crowd  turn 
towards  an  open  space  in  which  all  the  beautiful 
buildings  were  shaded  with  fine  trees,  and  flowers 
were  springing  at  the  very  edge  of  the  pavements. 
The  strangers  all  hastened  along  to  hear  what  it 
was,  and  she  with  them,  and  some  also  of  the 
people  of  the  place.  And  as  the  little  Pilgrim 
found  herself  walking  by  a  woman  who  was  of 
these  last,  she  asked  her  what  it  was. 

And  the  woman  told  her  it  was  a  poet  who  had 
come  to  say  to  them  what  had  been  revealed  to 
him,  and  that  the  two  with  the  silver  trumpets 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  93 

were  angels  of  the  musicians'  order,  whose  office 
it  was  to  proclaim  everything  that  was  new,  that 
the  people  should  know.  And  many  of  those 
who  were  at  work  in  the  palaces  came  out  and 
joined  the  crowd,  and  the  painter  who  had 
showed  the  little  Pilgrim  his  picture,  and  many 
whose  faces  she  began  to  be  acquainted  with. 
The  poet  stood  up  upon  a  beautiful  pedestal 
all  sculptured  in  stone,  and  with  wreaths  of  liv- 
ing flowers  hung  upon  it  —  and  when  the  crowd 
had  gathered  in  front  of  him,  he  began  his  poem. 
He  told  them  that  it  was  not  about  this  land,  or 
anything  that  happened  in  it,  which  they  knew 
as  he  did,  but  that  it  was  a  story  of  the  old  time, 
when  men  were  walking  in  darkness,  and  when 
no  one  knew  the  true  meaning  even  of  what  he 
himself  did,  but  had  to  go  on  as  if  blindly, 
stumbling  and  groping  with  their  hands.  And 
"  Oh,  brethren,"  he  said,  "  though  all  is  more 
beautiful  and  joyful  here  where  we  know,  yet  to 
remember  the  days  when  we  knew  not,  and  the 
ways  when  all  was  uncertain,  and  the  end  could 
not  be  distinguished  from  the  beginning,  is  sweet 
and  dear ;  and  that  which  was  done  in  the  dim 
twilight  should  be  celebrated  in  the  day ;  and 
our  Father  himself  loves  to  hear  of  those  who, 
having  not  seen,  loved,  and  who  learned  without 


94  A    UTILE   PILGRIM. 

any  teacher,  and  followed  the  light,  though  they 
did  not  understand." 

And  then  he  told  them  the  story  of  one  who 
had  lived  in  the  old  time  ;  and  in  that  air,  which 
seemed  to  be  made  of  sunshine,  and  amid  all 
those  stately  palaces,  he  described  to  them  the 
little  earth  which  they  had  left  behind  —  the  skies 
that  were  covered  with  clouds,  and  the  ways  that 
were  so  rough  and  stony,  and  the  cruelty  of  the 
oppressor,  and  the  cries  of  those  that  were  op- 
pressed. And  he  showed  the  sickness  and  the 
troubles,  and  the  sorrow  and  danger ;  and  how 
Death  stalked  about,  and  tore  heart  from  heart ; 
and  how  sometimes  the  strongest  would  fail, 
and  the  truest  fall  under  the  power  of  a  lie,  and 
the  tenderest  forget  to  be  kind ;  and  how  evil 
things  lurked  in  every  corner  to  beguile  the 
dwellers  there  ;  and  how  the  days  were  short  and 
the  nights  dark,  and  life  so  little  that  by  the  time 
a  man  had  learned  something  it  was  his  hour  to 
die.  "  What  can  a  soul  do  that  is  born  there  ?  " 
he  cried  ;  "  for  war  is  there  and  fighting,  and  per- 
plexity and  darkness ;  and  no  man  knows  if  that 
which  he  does  will  be  for  good  or  evil,  or  can 
tell  which  is  the  best  way,  or  know  the  end  from 
the  beginning ;  and  those  he  loves  the  most  are  a 
mystery  to  him,  and  their  thoughts  beyond  his 


A   LirrLE   PILGXIM.  95 

reach.  And  clouds  are  between  him  and  the 
Father,  and  he  is  deceived  with  false  gods  and 
false  teachers,  who  make  him  to  love  a  lie."  The 
people  who  were  listening  held  their  breath,  and 
a  shadow  like  a  cloud  fell  on  them,  and  they  re- 
membered and  knew  that  it  was  true.  But  the 
next  moment  their  hearts  rebelled,  and  one  and 
another  would  have  spoken,  and  the  little  Pilgrim 
herself  had  almost  cried  out  and  made  her  plea 
for  the  dear  earth  which  she  loved ;  when  he 
suddenly  tlirew  forth  his  voice  again  like  a  great 
song.  "  Oh,  dear  mother  earth,"  he  cried  ;  "  oh, 
little  world  and  great,  forgive  thy  son  !  for  lovely 
thou  art  and  dear,  and  the  sun  of  God  shines 
upon  thee,  and  the  sweet  dews  fall ;  and  there 
were  we  born,  and  loved  and  died,  and  are  come . 
hence  to  bless  the  Father  and  the  Son.  For  in 
no  other  world,  though  they  are  so  vast,  is  it 
given  to  any  to  know  the  Lord  in  the  darkness, 
and  follow  him  groping,  and  make  way  through 
sin  and  death,  and  overcome  the  evil,  and  con- 
quer in  his  name."  At  which  there  was  a  great 
sound  of  weeping  and  of  triumph,  and  the  little 
Pilgrim  could  not  contain  herself,  but  cried  out 
too  in  joy  as  if  for  a  deliverance.  And  then  the 
poet  told  his  tale.  And  as  he  told  them  of  the 
man    who  was   poor  and   sorrowful  and   alone, 


96  A    UTILE   PILGRIM. 

and  how  he  loved  and  was  not  loved  again,  and 
trusted  and  was  betrayed,  and  was  tempted  and 
drawn  into  the  darkness,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if 
he  must  perish  ;  but  wlien  hope  was  ahnost  gone, 
turned  again  from  the  edge  of  despair,  and  con- 
fronted all  his  enemies,  and  fought  and  conquered, 

—  the  people  followed  every  word  with  great  out- 
cries of  love  and  pity  and  wonder.  For  each 
one  as  he  listened  remembered  his  own  career 
and  that  of  his  brethren  in  the  old  life,  and 
admired  to  think  that  all  the  evil  was  past,  and 
wondered  that  out  of  such  tribulation  and  through 
so  many  dangers  all  were  safe  and  blessed  here. 
And  there  were  others  that  were  not  of  them, 
who  hstened,  some  seated  at  the  windows  of  the 
palaces  and  some  standing  in  the  great  square, 

—  people  who  were  not  like  the  others,  whose 
bearing  was  more  majestic,  and  who  looked  upon 
the  crowd  all  smiling  and  weeping,  with  wonder 
and  interest,  but  had  no  knowledge  of  the  cause, 
and  listened  as  it  were  to  a  tale  that  is  told.  The 
poet  and  his  audience  were  as  one,  and  at  every 
period  of  the  story  there  was  a  deep  breathing 
and  pause,  and  every  one  looked  at  his  neigh- 
bor, and  some  grasped  each  other's  hands  as 
they  remembered  all  that  was  in  the  past ;  but 
the  strangers  listened  and  gazed  and  observed 


A   LITTLE    PILGRLM.  97 

all,  as  those  who  listen  and  are  instructed  in 
something  beyond  their  knowledge.  The  little 
Pilgrim  stood  all  this  time  not  knowing  where  she 
was,  so  intent  was  she  upon  the  tale  ;  and  as  she 
listened  it  seemed  to  her  that  all  her  own  life  was 
rolling  out  before  her,  and  she  remembered  the 
things  that  had  been,  and  perceived  how  all  had 
been  shaped  and  guided,  and  trembled  a  little 
for  the  brother  who  was  in  danger,  yet  knew  that 
all  would  be  well. 

The  woman  who  had  been  at  her  side  hstened 
too  with  all  her  heart,  saymg  to  herself,  as  she 
stood  in  the  crowd,  "  He  has  left  nothing  out ! 
The  little  days  they  Avere  so  short,  and  the  skies 
would  change  all  in  a  moment  and  one's  heart 
with  them.  How  he  brings  it  all  back  !  "  And 
she  put  up  her  hand  to  dry  away  a  tear  from  her 
eyes,  though  her  face  all  the  time  was  shining 
with  the  recollection.  The  little  Pilgrim  was  glad 
to  be  by  the  side  of  a  woman  after  talking  Avith 
so  many  men,  and  she  put  out  her  hand  and 
touched  the  cloak  that  this  lady  wore,  and  which 
was  white  and  of  the  most  beautiful  texture,  with 
gold  threads  woven  in  it,  or  something  that  looked 
like  gold. 

"  Do  you  Uke,"  she  said,  "  to  think  of  the  old 
time?" 

7 


98  A    LITTLE    PILGRLM. 

The  woman  turned  and  looked  down  upon  her, 
for  she  was  tall  and  stately,  and  immediately  took 
the  hand  of  the  little  Pilgrim  into  hers,  and  held 
it  without  answering,  till  the  poet  had  ended  and 
come  down  from  the  place  where  he  had  been 
standing.  He  came  straight  through  the  crowd 
to  where  this  lady  stood,  and  said  something  to 
her.  "  You  did  well  to  tell  me,"  looking  at  her 
with  love  in  his  eyes,  —  not  the  tender  sweetness 
of  all  those  kind  looks  around,  but  the  love  that 
is  for  one.  The  little  Pilgrim  looked  at  them 
with  her  heart  beating,  and  was  very  glad  for 
them,  and  happy  in  herself;  for  she  had  not  seen 
this  love  before  since  she  came  into  the  city,  and 
it  had  troubled  her  to  think  that  perhaps  it  did 
not  exist  any  more.  "  I  am  glad,"  the  lady  said, 
and  gave  him  her  other  hand ;  "  but  here  is  a 
little  sister  who  asks  me  something,  and  I  must 
answer  her.     I  think  she  has  but  newly  come." 

"She  has  a  face  full  of  the  morning,"  the  poet 
said.  It  did  the  little  Pilgrim  good  to  feel  the 
touch  of  the  warm,  soft  hand ;  and  she  was  not 
afraid,  but  lifted  her  eyes  and  spoke  to  the  lady 
and  to  the  poet.  "  It  is  beautiful  what  you  said 
to  us.  Sometimes  in  the  old  time  we  used  to 
look  up  to  the  beautiful  skies  and  wonder  what 
there  was  above  the  clouds  ;  but  we  never  thought 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  99 

that  up  here  in  this  great  city  you  would  be  think- 
ing of  what  we  were  doing,  and  ijiaking  beautiful 
poems  all  about  us.  We  thought  that  you  would 
slug  wonderful  psalms,  and  talk  of  things  high, 
high  above  us." 

"  The  little  sister  does  not  know  what  the 
meaning  of  the  earth  is,"  the  poet  said.  "  It  is 
but  a  little  speck,  but  it  is  the  centre  of  all.  Let 
her  walk  with  us,  and  we  will  go  home,  and  you 
will  tell  her,  Ama,  for  I  love  to  hear  you  talk." 

"  Will  you  come  with  us?  "  the  lady  said. 

And  the  little  Pilgrim's  heart  leaped  up  in  her, 
to  think  she  was  now  going  to  see  a  home  in  this 
wonderful  city ;  and  they  went  along,  hand  in 
hand,  and  though  they  were  three  together,  and 
many  were  coming  and  going,  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty, for  every  one  made  way  for  them.  And 
there  was  a  little  murmur  of  pleasure  as  the  poet 
passed,  and  those  who  had  heard  his  poem  made 
obeisance  to  him,  and  thanked  him,  and  thanked 
the  Father  for  him  that  he  was  able  to  show  them 
so  many  beautiful  things.  And  they  walked  along 
the  street  which  was  shining  with  color,  and  saw 
as  they  passed  how  the  master  painter  had  come 
to  his  work,  and  was  standing  upon  the  balcony 
where  the  little  Pilgrim  had  been,  and  bringing 
out  of  the  wall,  under  his  hand,  faces  which  were 


100  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

full  of  life,  and  which  seemed  to  spring  forth  as 
if  they  had  been  hidden  there.  "  Let  us  wait  a 
little  and  see  him  working,"  the  poet  said ;  and 
all  round  about  the  "people  stopped  on  their  way, 
and  there  was  a  soft  cry  of  pleasure  and  praise 
all  through  the  beautiful  street.  And  the  painter 
with  whom  the  little  Pilgrim  had  talked  before 
came,  and  stood  behind  her  as  if  he  had  been  an 
old  friend,  and  called  out  to  her  at  every  new 
touch  to  mark  how  this  and  that  was  done.  She 
did  not  understand  as  he  did,  but  she  saw  how 
beautiful  it  was,  and  she  was  glad  to  have  seen 
the  great  painter,  as  she  had  been  glad  to  hear 
the  great  poet.  It  seemed  to  the  little  Pilgrim  as 
if  everything  happened  well  for  her,  and  that  no 
one  had  ever  been  so  blessed  before.  And  to 
make  it  all  more  sweet,  this  new  friend,  this  great 
and  sweet  lady,  always  held  her  hand,  and  pressed 
it  softly  when  something  more  lovely  appeared  ; 
and  even  the  pictured  faces  on  the  wall  seemed 
to  beam  upon  her,  as  they  came  out  one  by  one 
like  the  stars  in  the  sky.  Then  the  three  went 
on  again,  and  passed  by  many  more  beautiful 
palaces,  and  great  streets  leading  away  into  the 
light,  till  you  could  see  no  further ;  and  they  met 
with  bands  of  singers  who  sang  so  sweetly  that 
the  heart  seemed  to  leap  out  of  the  Pilgrim's 


A   LITTLE    PILGRLM.  lOI 

breast  to  meet  with  them,  for  above  all  things 
this  was  what  she  had  loved  most.  And  out  of 
one  of  the  palaces  there  came  such  glorious 
music  that  everything  she  had  seen  and  heard 
before  seemed  as  nothing  in  comparison.  And 
amid  all  these  delights  they  went  on  and  on,  but 
without  wearying,  till  they  came  out  of  the  streets 
into  lovely  walks  and  alleys,  and  made  their  way 
to  the  banks  of  a  great  river,  which  seemed  to 
sing,  too,  a  soft  melody  of  its  own. 

And  here  thera  were  some  fair  houses  sur- 
rounded by  gardens  and  flowers  that  grew  every- 
where, and  the  doors  were  all  open,  and  within 
ever}1:hing  was  lovely  and  still,  and  ready  for 
rest  if  you  were  weary.  The  little  Pilgrim  was 
not  weary ;  but  the  lady  placed  her  upon  a  couch 
in  the  porch,  where  the  pillars  and  the  roof  were 
all  formed  of  interlacing  plants  and  flowers  ;  and 
there  they  sat  with  her,  and  talked,  and  explained 
to  her  many  things.  They  told  her  that  the  earth 
though  so  small  was  the  place  in  all  the  world  to 
which  the  thoughts  of  those  above  were  turned. 
"And  not  only  of  us  who  have  lived  there,  but  of 
all  our  brothers  in  the  other  worlds ;  for  we  are 
the  race  which  the  Father  has  chosen  to  be  the 
example.  In  every  age  there  is  one  that  is  the 
scene  of  the  struggle  and  thd  victory,  and  it  is  for 


102  A    LITTLE    PILGRIINL 

this  reason  that  the  chronicles  are  made,  and  that 
we  are  all  placed  here  to  gather  the  meaning  of 
what  has  been  done  among  men.  And  I  am  one 
of  those,"  the  lady  said,  "  that  go  back  to  the 
dear  earth  and  gather  up  the  tale  of  what  our 
httle  brethren  are  doing.  I  have  not  to  succor 
like  some  others,  but  only  to  see  and  bring  the 
news ;  and  he  makes  them  into  great  poems, 
as  you  have  heard ;  and  sometimes  the  master 
painter  will  take  one  and  make  of  it  a  picture  ; 
and  there  is  nothing  that  is  so  delightful  to  us  as 
when  we  can  bring  back  the  histories  of  beautiful 
things." 

"  But,  oh,"  said  the  little  Pilgrim,  "  what  can 
there  be  on  earth  so  beautiful  as  the  meanest 
thing  that  is  here?  " 

Then  they  both  smiled  upon  her  and  said,  "  It 
is  more  beautiful  than  the  most  beautiful  thing 
here  to  see  how,  under  the  low  skies  and  in  the 
short  days,  a  soul  will  turn  to  our  Father.  And 
sometimes,"  said  Ama,  "when  I  am  watching, 
one  will  wander  and  stray,  and  be  led  into  the 
dark  till  my  heart  is  sick ;  then  come  back  and 
make  me  glad.  Sometimes  I  cry  out  within  my- 
self to  the  Father,  and  say,  '  O  my  Father,  it  is 
enough  ! '  and  it  will  seem  to  me  that  it  is  not 
possible   to   stand   by  and  see  his  destruction. 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  IO3 

And  then  while  you  are  gazing,  while  j-ou  are 
crying,  he  will  recover  and  return,  and  go  on 
again.  And  to  the  angels  it  is  more  wonderful 
than  to  us,  for  they  have  never  lived  there.  And 
all  the  other  worlds  are  eager  to  hear  what  we 
can  tell  them.  For  no  one  knows  except  the 
Father  how  the  battle  \vill  turn,  or  when  it  will  all 
be  accompUshed ;  and  there  are  some  who  trem- 
ble for  our  little  brethren.  For  to  look  dowoi  and 
see  how  little  hght  there  is,  and  how  no  one 
knows  what  may  happen  to  him  next,  makes  them 
afraid  who  never  were  there." 

The  little  Pilgrim  listened  with  an  intent  face, 
clasping  her  hands,  and  said,  — 

"  But  it  never  could  be  that  our  Father  should 
be  overcome  by  evil.  Is  not  that  known  in  all 
the  worlds?  " 

Then  the  lady  turned  and  kissed  her ;  and  the 
poet  broke  forth  in  singing,  and  said,  "  Faith 
is  more  heavenly  than  heaven ;  it  is  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  angels.  It  is  the  only  voice  that 
can  answer  to  our  Father.  We  praise  him,  we 
glorify  him,  we  love  his  name ;  but  there  is  but 
one  response  to  him  through  all  the  worlds,  and 
that  is  the  cry  of  the  little  brothers,  who  see 
nothing  and  know  nothing,  but  beUeve  that  he 
will  never  fail." 


I04  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

At  this  the  Httle  Pilgrim  wept,  for  her  heart  was 
touched  ;  but  she  said^  — 

"  We  are  not  so  ignorant ;  for  we  have  our 
Lord  who  is  our  Brother,  and  he  teaches  us  all 
that  we  require  to  know." 

Upon  this  the  poet  rose  and  hfted  up  his 
hands  and  sang  again  a  great  song ;  it  was  in  the 
other  language  which  the  little  Pilgrim  still  did 
not  understand,  but  she  could  make  out  that  it 
sounded  like  a  great  proclamation  that  He  was 
wise  as  he  was  good,  and  called  upon  all  to  see 
that  the  Lord  had  chosen  the  only  way :  and  the 
sound  of  the  poet's  voice  was  like  a  great  trumpet 
sounding  bold  and  sweet,  as  if  to  tell  this  to  those 
who  were  far  away. 

"  For  you  must  know,"  said  the  Lady  Ama, 
who  all  the  time  held  the  Pilgrim's  hand,  "  that 
it  is  permitted  to  all  to  judge  according  to  the 
wisdom  that  has  been  given  them.  And  there 
are  some  who  think  that  our  dear  Lord  might 
have  found  another  way,  and  that  wait,  sometimes 
with  trembling,  lest  he  should  fail ;  but  not 
amon^  us  who  have  lived  on  earth,  for  we  know. 
And  it  is  our  work  to  show  to  all  the  worlds  that 
his  way  never  fails,  and  how  wonderful  it  is,  and 
beautiful  above  all  that  heart  has  conceived. 
And  thus  we  justify  the  ways  of  God,  who  is  our 


A    LITTLE   PILGRLM.  105 

Father.  But  in  the  other  worlds  there  are  many 
who  will  continue  to  fear  until  the  histor)'  of  the 
earth  is  all  ended  and  the  chronicles  are  made 
complete." 

"And  will  that  be  long?"  the  little  Pilgrim 
cried,  feeling  in  her  heart  that  she  would  like  to 
go  to  all  the  worlds  and  tell  them  of  our  Lord, 
and  of  his  love,  and  how  the  thought  of  him 
makes  you  strong ;  and  it  troubled  her  a  little  to 
hear  her  friends  speak  of  the  low  skies,  and  the 
short  days,  and  the  dimness  of  that  dear  country 
which  she  had  left  behind,  in  wliich  there  were 
so  many  still  whom  she  loved. 

Upon  this  Ama  shook  her  head,  and  said  that 
of  that  day  no  one  knew,  not  even  our  Lord,  but 
only  the  Father ;  and  then  she  smiled  and 
answered  the  Uttle  Pilgrim's  thought.  "  When 
we  go  back,'"  she  said,  "  it  is  not  as  when  we 
lived  there ;  for  now  we  see  all  the  dangers  of  it 
and  the-  mysteries  which  we  did  not  see  before. 
It  was  by  the  Father's  dear  love  that  we  did  not 
see  what  was  around  us  and  about  us  while  we 
lived  there,  for  then  our  hearts  would  have 
fainted  ;  and  that  makes  us  wonder  now  that  any 
one  endures  to  the  end." 

"You  are  a  great  deal  wiser  than  I  am,"  said 
the  little  Pilgrim ;  "  but,  though  our  hearts  had 


Io6  A    LITTLE    l'n,(;RIM. 

fainted,  licnv  could  wc  have  been  overcome?  for 
He  was  on  our  side." 

At  tliis  neither  of  them  made  any  reply  at  first, 
but  looked  at  her ;  and  at  length  the  poet  said 
that  she  had  brought  many  thoughts  back  to  his 
mind,  and  how  he  had  himself  been  almost 
worsted  when  one  like  her  came  to  him  and  gave 
strength  to  his  soul.  "  For  that  He  was  on  our 
side  was  the  only  thing  she  knew,"  he  said,  "  and 
all  that  could  be  learned  or  discovered  was  not 
worthy  of  naming  beside  it.  And  this  I  must  tell 
when  next  I  s])eak  to  the  i)eoplc,  and  how  our 
little  sister  brought  it  to  my  mind." 

And  then  they  i)aused  from  this  discourse,  and 
the  little  Pilgrim  looked  roimd  upon  the  beautiful 
houses  and  the  fiiir  gardens,  and  she  said,  — 

"You  live  here?  and  do  you  come  home  at 
night?  —  but  I  do  not  mean  at  night,  I  mean 
when  your  work  is  done.  Antl  arc  they  poets 
like  you  (liat  dwell  all  about  in  these  pleasant 
places,  and  the  —  " 

She  would  have  said  the  children,  but  stopi)ed, 
not  knowing  if  perhaps  it  might  be  unkind  to 
speak  of  the  children  when  she  saw  none  there. 

Upon  this  the  lady  smiled  once  more,  and 
said,  — 

"  The  door  stands  ojjen  always,  so  that  no  one  is 


A    LOTLE    PILGRIM.  IO7 

shut  out,  and  the  children  come  and  go  when  they 
will.  They  are  children  no  longer,  antl  they  have 
their  appointed  work  like  him  and  me." 

"  And  you  are  always  among  those  you  love  ?  " 
the  Pilgrim  said  ;  upon  which  they  smiled  again 
and  said,  "  We  all  love  each  other ;  "  and  the 
lady  held  her  hand  in  both  of  hers,  and  caressed 
it,  and  softly  laughed  and  said,  "  You  know  only 
the  little  language.  When  you  have  been  taught 
the  other  you  will  learn  many  beautiful  things." 

She  rested  for  some  time  after  this,  and  talked 
much  with  her  new  friends  ;  and  then  there  came 
into  the  heart  of  the  litUe  Pilgrim  a  longing  to  go 
to  the  place  which  was  appointed  for  her,  and 
which  was  her  home,  and  to  do  the  work  which 
had  been  given  her  to  do.  And  when  the  lady 
saw  this  she  rose  and  said  that  she  would  accom- 
pany her  a  little  upon  her  way.  But  the  poet  bid 
her  f:xrewell  and  remained  under  the  porch,  with 
the  green  branches  shading  him,  and  the  flowers 
twining  round  the  pillars,  and  the  open  door  of 
this  beautiful  house  behind  him.  When  she 
looked  back  upon  him  he  waved  his  hand  to  her 
as  if  bidding  her  God-speed,  and  the  lady  by  her 
side  looked  back  too  and  waved  her  hand,  and 
the  little  Pilgrim  felt  tears  of  haiii)iness  come  to 
her  eyes  ;  for  she  had  been  wondering  with  a  little 


I08  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

disappointment  to  see  that  the  people  in  the  city, 
except  those  who  were  strangers,  were  chiefly 
alone,  and  not  like  those  in  the  old  world  where  the 
husband  and  wife  go  together.  It  consoled  her 
to  see  again  two  who  were  one.  The  lady  pressed 
her  hand  in  answer  to  her  thought,  and  bade  her 
pause  a  moment  and  look  back  into  the  city  as 
they  passed  the  end  of  the  great  street  out  of 
which  they  came.  And  then  the  Pilgrim  was 
more  and  more  consoled,  for  she  saw  many  who 
had  before  been  alone  now  walking  together  hand 
in  hand. 

"  It  is  not  as  it  was,"  Ama  said.  "  For  all  of 
us  have  work  to  do  which  is  needed  for  the 
worlds,  and  it  is  no  longer  needful  that  one  should 
sit  at  home  while  the  other  goes  forth ;  for  our 
work  is  not  for  our  life  as  of  old,  or  for  ourselves, 
but  for  the  Father  who  has  given  us  so  great  a 
trust.  And,  little  sister,  you  must  know  that 
though  we  are  not  so  great  as  the  angels,  nor  as 
many  that  come  to  visit  us  from  the  other  worlds, 
yet  we  are  nearer  to  him.  For  we  are  in  his 
secret,  and  it  is  ours  to  make  it  clear." 

The  little  Pilgrim's  heart  was  very  full  to  hear 
this  ;  but  she  said,  — 

"  I  was  never  clever,  nor  knew  much.  It  is 
better  for  me  to  go  away  to  my  little  border-land, 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  IO9 

and  help  the  strangers  who  do  not  know  the 
way." 

"  Whatever  is  your  work  is  the  best,"  the  lady 
said ;  "  but  though  you  are  so  little  you  are  in 
the  Father's  secret  too ;  for  it  is  nature  to  you  to 
know  what  the  others  cannot  be  sure  of,  that  we 
must  have  the  victory  at  the  last :  so  that  we 
have  this  between  us,  the  Father  and  we.  And 
though  all  are  his  children,  we  are  of  the  kindred 
of  God,  because  of  our  Lord  who  is  our  Brother." 
And  then  the  Lady  Ama  kissed  her,  and  bade 
her  when  she  returned  to  the  great  city,  either 
for  rest  or  for  love,  or  because  the  Father  sent 
for  her,  that  she  should  come  to  the  house  by 
the  river.  "  For  we  are  friends  for  ever,"  she 
said,  and  so  threw  her  white  veil  over  her  head, 
and  was  gone  upon  her  mission,  whither  the  little 
Pilgrim  did  not  know. 

And  now  she  found  herself  at  a  distance  from 
the  great  city,  which  shone  in  the  light  with  its 
beautiful  towers,  and  roofs,  and  all  its  monuments, 
softly  fringed  with  trees,  and  set  in  a  hea\-enly  firma- 
ment. And  the  Pilgrim  thought  of  those  words 
that  described  this  lovely  place  as  a  bride  adorned 
for  her  husband,  and  did  not  wonder  at  him  who 
had  said  that  her  streets  were  of  gold  and  her 
gates  of  pearl,  because  gold  and  pearls  and  pre- 


no  A   LITTLE   PILGRDL 

cious  jewels  were  as  nothing  to  the  glory  and  the 
beauty  of  her.  The  little  Pilgrim  was  glad  to  have 
seen  these  wonderful  things,  and  her  mind  was 
like  a  cup  running  over  with  almost  more  than  it 
could  contain.  It  seemed  to  her  that  there  never 
could  be  a  time  when  she  should  want  for  wonder 
and  interest  and  delight,  so  long  as  she  had  this 
to  think  of.  Yet  she  was  not  sorry  to  turn  her 
back  upon  the  beautiful  city,  but  went  on  her  way 
singing  in  unutterable  content,  and  thinking  over 
what  the  lady  had  said,  that  we  were  in  God's  se- 
cret, more  than  all  the  great  worlds  above  and 
even  the  angels,  because  of  knowing  how  it  is  that 
in  darkness  and  doubt,  and  without  any  open  vis- 
ion, a  man  may  still  keep  the  right  way.  The 
path  lay  along  the  bank  of  the  river  which  flowed 
beside  her  and  made  the  air  full  of  music,  and 
a  soft  air  blew  across  the  running  stream  and 
breathed  in  her  face  and  refreshed  her,  and  the 
birds  sang  in  all  the  trees.  And  as  she  passed 
through  the  villages  the  people  came  out  to  meet 
her,  and  asked  of  her  if  she  had  come  from  the 
city,  and  what  she  had  seen  there.  And  every- 
where she  found  friends,  and  kind  voices  that 
gave  her  greeting.  But  some  would  ask  her  why 
she  still  spoke  the  little  language,  though  it  was 
sweet  to  their  ears ;  and  others  when  they  heard 


A   LITTLE  PILGRIM.  Ill 

it  hastened  to  call  from  the  houses  and  the  fields 
some  among  them  who  knew  the  other  tongue 
but  a  little,  and  who  came  and  crowded  round 
the  little  Pilgrim,  and  asked  her  many  questions 
both  about  the  things  she  had  been  seeing  and 
about  the  old  time.  And  she  perceived  that  the 
village  folk  were  a  simple  folk,  not  learned  and 
wise  like  those  she  had  left ;  and  that  though 
they  lived  within  sight  ot  the  great  city,  and 
showed  every  stranger  the  beautiful  view  of  it, 
and  the  glory  of  its  towers,  yet  few  among  them 
had  travelled  there  ;  for  they  were  so  content 
with  their  fields,  and  their  river,  and  the  shade  of 
their  trees,  and  the  birds  singing,  and  their  simple 
life,  that  they  wanted  no  change ;  though  it 
pleased  them  to  receive  the  little  Pilgrim,  and 
they  brought  her  into  their  villages  rejoicing,  and 
called  every  one  to  see  her.  And  they  told  her 
that  they  had  all  been  poor  and  labored  hard  in 
the  old  time,  and  had  never  rested  ;  so  that  now 
it  was  the  Father's  good  pleasure  that  they  should 
enjoy  great  peace  and  consolation  among  the 
fresh-breathing  fields  and  on  the  riverside,  so  that 
there  were  many  who  even  now  had  little  occu- 
pation except  to  think  of  the  Father's  goodness, 
and  to  rest.  And  they  told  her  how  the  Lord 
himself  v/ould   come  among  them,  and  sit  down 


112  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

under  a  tree,  and  tell  them  one  of  his  parables, 
and  make  them  all  more  happy  than  words  could 
say ;  and  how  sometimes  he  would  send  one 
out  of  the  beautiful  city,  with  a  poem  or  tale  to 
say  to  them,  and  bands  of  lovely  music,  more 
lovely  than  anything  beside,  except  the  sound  of 
the  Lord's  own  voice.  "  And  what  is  more  won- 
derful, the  angels  themselves  come  often  and  lis- 
ten to  us,"  they  said,  "  when  we  begin  to  talk  and 
remind  each  other  of  the  old  time,  and  how  we 
suffered  heat  and  cold,  and  were  bowed  down 
with  labor,  and  bending  over  the  soil,  and  how 
sometimes  the  harvest  would  fail  us,  and  some- 
times we  had  not  bread,  and  sometimes  would 
hush  the  children  to  sleep  because  there  was 
nothing  to  give  them  ;  and  how  we  grew  old  and 
weary,  and  still  worked  on  and  on."  "  We  are 
those  who  were  old,"  a  number  of  them  called 
out  to  her,  with  a  murmuring  sound  of  laughter, 
one  looking  over  another's  shoulder.  And  one 
woman  said,  "  The  angels  say  to  us,  '  Did  you 
never  think  the  Father  had  forsaken  you  and  the 
Lord  forgotten  you?'"  And  all  the  rest  an- 
swered as  in  a  chorus,  "There  were  moments 
that  we  thought  this ;  but  all  the  time  we  knew 
that  it  could  not  be."  "  And  the  angels  wonder 
at  us,"  said  another.     All  this  they  said,  crowd- 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  II3 

ing  one  before  another,  every  one  anxious  to  say 
something,  and  sometimes  speaking  together,  but 
ahvays  in  accord.  And  then  there  was  a  sound 
of  laughter  and  pleasure,  botli  at  the  strange 
thought  that  the  Lord  could  have  forgotten  them, 
and  at  the  wonder  of  the  angels  over  their  simple 
tales.  And  immediately  they  began  to  remind 
each  other,  and  say,  "  Do  you  remember?  "  and 
they  told  the  little  Pilgrim  a  hundred  tales  of  the 
hardships  ancktroubles  they  had  known,  all  smil- 
ing and  radiant  with  pleasure  ;  and  at  every  new 
account  the  others  would  applaud  and  rejoice, 
feeling  the  happiness  all  the  more  for  the  evils 
that  were  past.  And  some  of  them  led  her  into 
their  gardens  to  show  her  their  flowers,  and  to 
tell  her  how  they  had  begun  to  study  and  learn 
how  colors  were  changed  and  form  perfected,  and 
the  secrets  of  the  growth  and  of  the  germ,  of 
which  they  had  been  ignorant.  And  others  ar- 
ranged themselves  in  choirs,  and  sang  to  her  de- 
lightful songs  of  the  fields,  and  accompanied  her 
out  upon  her  way,  singing  and  answering  to  each 
other.  The  difference  between  the  simple  folk 
and  the  greatness  of  the  others  made  the  little 
Pilgrim  wonder  and  admire  ;  and  she  loved  them 
in  her  simplicity,  and  turned  back  many  a  time 
to  wave  her  hand  to  them,  and  to  listen  to  the 


114  A   LITTLE   PILGRm. 

lovely  simple  singing  as  it  went  further  and  fur- 
ther away.  It  had  an  evening  tone  of  rest  and 
quietness,  and  of  protection  and  peace.  "  He 
leadeth  me  by  the  green  pastures  and  beside  the 
quiet  waters,"  she  said  to  herself;  and  her  heart 
swelled  with  pleasure  to  think  that  it  was  those 
who  had  been  so  old,  and  so  weary  and  poor, 
who  had  tliis  rest  to  console  them  for  all  their 
sorrows. 

And  as  she  went  along,  not  only  did  she  pass 
through  many  other  villages,  but  met  many  on  the 
way  who  were  travelling  towards  the  great  city, 
and  would  greet  her  sweetly  as  they  passed,  and 
sometimes  stop  to  say  a  pleasant  word,  so  that 
the  litde  Pilgrim  was  never  lonely  wherever  she 
went.  But  most  of  them  began  to  speak  to  her 
in  the  other  language,  which  was  as  beautiful  and 
sweet  as  music,  but  which  she  could  not  under- 
stand ;  and  they  were  surprised  to  find  her  ignorant 
of  it,  not  kno-v\ing  that  she  was  but  a  new-comer 
into  these  lands.  And  there  were  many  things  that 
could  not  be  told  but  in  that  language,  for  the 
earthly  tongue  had  no  words  to  express  them. 
The  Mttle  Pilgrim  was  a  little  sad  not  to  under- 
stand what  was  said  to  her,  but  cheered  herself 
with  the  thought  that  it  should  be  taught  to  her  by 
one  whom  she  loved  best.     The  way  by  the  river- 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  II5 

side  was  very  cheerful  and  bright,  with  many 
people  coming  and  going,  and  many  villages, 
some  of  them  with  a  bridge  across  the  stream,  some 
withdrawn  among  the  fields,  but  all  of  them 
bright  and  full  of  life,  and  with  sounds  of  music, 
and  voices,  and  footsteps  :  and  the  little  Pilgrim 
felt  no  weariness,  and  moved  along  as  lightly  as  a 
child,  taking  great  pleasure  in  everything  she  saw, 
and  answering  all  the  friendly  greetings  with  all  her 
heart,  yet  glad  to  think  that  she  was  approaching 
ever  nearer  to  the  countr}'  where  it  was  ordained 
that  she  should  dwell  for  a  time  and  succor  the 
strangers,  and  receive  those  who  were  newly  ar- 
rived. And  she  consoled  herself  with  the  thought 
that  there  was  no  need  of  any  language  but  that 
which  she  knew.  As  this  went  through  her  mind, 
making  her  glad,  she  suddenly  became  aware  of 
one  who  was  walking  by  her  side,  a  lady  who  was 
covered  with  a  veil  white  and  shining  like  that 
which  Ama  had  worn  in  the  beautiful  city.  It 
hung  about  this  stranger's  head  so  that  it  was  not 
easy  to  see  her  face,  but  the  sound  of  her  voice 
was  very  sweet  in  the  pilgrim's  ear,  yet  startled 
her  like  the  sound  of  something  which  she  knew 
well,  but  could  not  remember.  And  as  there 
were  few  who  were  going  that  wa}-,  she  was  glad 
and  said,  "  Let  us  walk  together,  if  that  pleases 


Il6  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

you."  And  the  stranger  said,  "  It  is  for  that  I  have 
come,"  which  was  a  reply  which  made  the  Uttle 
Pilgrim  wonder  more  and  more,  though  she  was 
very  glad  and  joyful  to  have  this  companion  upon 
her  way.  And  then  the  lady  began  to  ask  her 
many  questions,  not  about  the  city,  or  the  great 
things  she  had  seen,  but  about  herself,  and  what 
the  dear  Lord  had  given  her  to  do. 

"  I  am  little  and  weak,  and  I  cannot  do  much," 
the  little  Pilgrim  said.  "  It  is  nothing  but  pleas- 
ure. It  is  to  welcome  those  that  are  coming,  and 
tell  them.  Sometimes  they  are  astonished  and  do 
not  know.  I  was  so  myself.  I  came  in  my  sleep, 
and  understood  nothing.  But  now  that  I  know, 
it  is  sweet  to  tell  them  that  they  need  not  fear." 

"  I  was  glad,"  the  lady  said,  "  that  you  came 
in  your  sleep  ;  for  sometimes  the  way  is  dark  and 
hard,  and  you  are  litde  and  tender.  When  your 
brother  comes  you  will  be  the  first  to  see  him, 
and  show  him  the  way." 

"My  brother!  is  he  coming?  "the  little  Pil- 
grim cried.  And  then  she  said  with  a  wistful 
look,  "  But  we  are  all  brethren,  and  you  mean 
only  one  of  those  who  are  the  children  of  our 
Father.  You  must  forgive  me  that  I  do  not 
know  the  higher  speech,  but  only  what  is  natural, 
for  I  have  not  yet  been  long  here." 


A    LITTLE    PILGRIM.  II7 

"  He  whom  I  mean  is  called  —  "  and  here  the 
lady  said  a  name  which  was  the  true  name  of 
a  brother  bom  whom  the  Pilgrim  loved  above 
all  others.  She  gave  a  cry,  and  then  she  said, 
trembling,  "  I  know  your  voice,  but  I  cannot  see 
your  face.  And  what  you  say  makes  me  think 
of  many  things.  No  one  else  has  covered  her 
face  when  she  has  spoken  to  me.  I  know  you, 
and  yet  I  cannot  tell  who  you  are." 

The  woman  stood  for  a  little  without  saying  a 
word,  and  then  very  softly,  in  a  voice  which  only 
the  heart  heard,  she  called  the  little  Pilgrim  by 
her  name. 

"  Mother,"  cried  the  Pilgrim,  with  such  a  cry 
of  joy  that  it  echoed  all  about  in  the  sweet 
air,  and  flung  herself  upon  the  veiled  lady,  and 
drew  the  veil  from  her  face,  and  saw  that  it  was 
she.  And  with  this  sight  there  came  a  revelation 
which  flooded  her  soul  with  happiness.  For  the 
face  which  had  been  old  and  feeble  was  old  no 
longer,  but  fair  in  the  maturity  of  day  ;  and  the 
figure  that  had  been  bent  and  weary  was  full  of 
a  tender  majesty,  and  the  arms  that  clasped  her 
about  were  warm  and  soft  with  love  and  life. 
And  all  that  had  changed  their  relations  in  the 
other  days  and  made  the  mother  in  her  weakness 
seem  as  a  child,  and  transferred  all  protection 


Il8  A   LITTLE   PILGRIM. 

and  strength  to  the  daughter,  was  gone  for  ever : 
and  the  little  Pilgrim  beheld  in  a  rapture  one  who 
was  her  sister  and  equal,  yet  ever  above  her,  — 
more  near  to  her  than  any,  though  all  were  so 
near,  —  one  of  whom  she  herself  was  a  part,  yet 
another,  and  who  knew  all  her  thoughts  and  the 
way  of  them  before  they  arose  in  her.  And  to 
see  her  face  as  in  the  days  of  her  prime,  and  her 
eyes  so  clear  and  wise,  and  to  feel  once  more 
that  which  is  different  from  the  love  of  all,  that 
which  is  still  most  sweet  where  all  is  sweet,  the 
love  of  one,  was  like  a  crown  to  her  in  her  hap- 
piness. The  little  Pilgrim  could  not  think  for  joy, 
nor  say  a  word,  but  held  this  dear  mother's  hands 
and  looked  in  her  face,  and  her  heart  soared  away 
to  the  Father  in  thanks  and  joy.  They  sat  down 
by  the  roadside  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  — 
while  the  river  ran  softly  by,  and  everything  was 
hushed  out  of  sympathy  and  kindness, —  and  ques- 
tioned each  other  of  all  that  had  been  and  was  to 
be.  And  the  little  Pilgrim  told  all  the  little  news  of 
home,  and  of  the  brothers  and  sisters  and  the 
children  that  had  been  born,  and  of  those  whose 
faces  were  turned  towards  this  better  country ; 
and  the  mother  smiled  and  listened  and  would 
have  heard  all  over  and  over,  although  many 
things  she  already  knew.     "  But  why  should  I  tell 


A    LITTLE   PILGRIM.  II9 

you,  for  did  not  you  watch  over  us  and  see  all  we 
did,  and  were  not  you  near  us  always?"  the  little 
Pilgrim  said. 

"  How  could  that  be  ?  "  said  the  mother  ;  "  for 
we  are  not  like  our  Lord,  to  be  everywhere.  We 
come  and  go  where  we  are  sent.  But  sometimes 
we  knew,  and  sometimes  saw,  and  always  loved. 
And  whenever  our  hearts  were  sick  for  news  it 
was  but  to  go  to  him,  and  he  told  us  everything. 
And  now,  my  little  one,  you  are  as  we  are,  and 
have  seen  the  Lord.  And  this  has  been  given  us, 
to  teach  our  child  once  more,  and  show  you  the 
heavenly  language,  that  you  may  understand  all, 
both  the  little  and  the  great." 

Then  the  Pilgrim  lifted  her  head  from  her  moth- 
er's bosom,  and  looked  in  her  face  with  eyes  full 
of  longing.     "You  said  'we,'  "  she  said. 

The  mother  did  nothing  but  smile  ;  then  lifted 
her  eyes  and  looked  along  the  beautiful  path  of 
the  river  to  where  some  one  was  coming  to  join 
them.  And  the  little  Pilgrim  cried  out  again, 
in  wonder  and  joy  ;  and  presently  found  herself 
seated  between  them,  her  father  and  her  mother, 
the  two  who  had  loved  her  most  in  the  other  days. 
They  looked  more  beautiful  than  the  angels  and 
all  the  great  persons  whom  she  had  seen  ;  for 
still  they  were  hers  and  she  was  theirs  more  than 


I20  A   LITTLE  PILGRIM. 

all  the  angels  and  all  the  blessed  could  be.  And 
thus  she  learned  that  though  the  new  may  take 
the  place  of  the  old,  and  many  things  may  blos- 
som out  of  it  like  flowers,  yet  that  the  old  is  never 
done  away.  And  then  they  sat  together,  telling 
of  everything  that  had  befallen,  and  all  the  little 
tender  things  that  were  of  no  import,  and  all  the 
great  changes  and  noble  ways,  and  the  wonders 
of  heaven  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  for  all 
were  open  to  them,  both  great  and  small ;  and 
when  they  had  satisfied  their  souls  with  these,  her 
father  and  mother  began  to  teach  her  the  other 
language,  smiling  often  at  her  faltering  tongue, 
and  telling  her  the  same  thing  over  and  over  till 
she  learnt  it ;  and  her  father  called  her  his  little 
foolish  one,  as  he  had  done  in  the  old  days ;  and 
at  last,  when  they  had  kissed  her  and  blessed  her, 
and  told  her  how  to  come  home  to  them  when 
she  was  weary,  they  gave  her,  as  the  Father  had 
permitted  them,  with  joy  and  blessing,  her  new 
name. 

The  little  Pilgrim  was  tired  with  happiness  and 
all  the  wonder  and  pleasure  ;  and  as  she  sat  there 
in  the  silence,  leaning  upon  those  who  were  so 
dear  to  her,  the  soft  air  grew  sweeter  and  sweeter 
about  her,  and  the  light  faded  softly  into  a  dim- 
ness of  tender  indulgence  and  privilege  for  her, 


A   LITTLE   PILGRIM.  121 

because  she  was  still  little  and  weak.  And 
whether  that  heavenly  suspense  of  all  her  facul- 
ties was  sleep  or  not  she  knew  not,  but  it  was 
such  as  in  all  her  life  she  had  never  known. 
When  she  came  back  to  herself,  it  was  by  the. 
sound  of  many  voices  calling  her,  and  many  peo- 
ple hastening  past  and  beckoning  to  her  to  join 
them. 

"Come,  come,"  they  said,  "  little  sister  :  there 
has  been  great  trouble  in  the  other  life,  and 
many  have  arrived  suddenly  and  are  afraid. 
Come,  come,  and  help  them,  —  come  and  help 
them  !  " 

And  she  sprang  up  from  her  soft  seat,  and 
found  that  she  was  no  longer  by  the  riverside,  or 
within  sight  of  the  great  city,  or  in  the  arms  of 
those  she  loved,  but  stood  on  one  of  the  flowery 
paths  of  her  own  border-land,  and  saw  her  fellows 
hastening  towards  the  gates  where  there  seemed 
a  great  crowd.  And  she  was  no  longer  weary, 
but  full  of  life  and  strength  ;  and  it  seemed  to  her 
that  she  could  take  them  up  in  her  arms,  those 
trembling  strangers,  and  carry  them  straight  to 
the  Father,  so  strong  was  she,  and  light,  and  full 
of  force.  And  above  all  the  gladness  she  had 
felt,  and  all  her  pleasure  in  what  she  had  seen, 
and   more   happy  even   than  the   meeting  with 


122  A    LITTLE    PILGRIM. 

those  she  loved  most,  was  her  happiness  now,  as 
she  went  along  as  light  as  the  breeze  to  receive 
the  strangers.  She  was  so  eager  that  she  began 
to  sing  a  song  of  welcome  as  she  hastened  on. 
"Oh,  welcome,  welcome!"  she  cried;  and  as 
she  sang  she  knew  it  was  one  of  the  heavenly 
melodies  which  she  had  heard  in  the  great  city ; 
and  she  hastened  on,  her  feet  flying  over  the 
flowery  ways,  thinking  how  the  great  worlds  were 
all  watching,  and  the  angels  looking  on,  and 
the  whole  universe  vv^aiting  till  it  should  be 
proved  to  them  that  the  dear  Lord,  the  Brother 
of  us  all,  had  chosen  the  perfect  way,  and  that 
over  all  evil  and  the  sorrow  he  was  the  Conqueror 
alone. 

And  the  little  Pilgrim's  voice,  though  it  was  so 
small,  echoed  away  through  the  great  firmament 
to  where  the  other  worlds  were  watching  to  see 
what  should  come,  and  cheered  the  anxious  faces 
of  some  great  lords  and  princes  far  more  great 
than  she,  who  were  of  a  nobler  race  than  man ; 
for  it  was  said  among  the  stars  that  when  such  a 
little  sound  could  reach  so  far,  it  was  a  token  that 
the  Lord  had  chosen  aright,  and  that  his  method 
must  be  the  best.  And  it  breathed  over  the  earth 
like  some  one  saying  Courage  !  to  those  whose 
hearts  were  failing ;  and  it  dropped  down,  down, 


A    LITTLE    PILGRLM.  I  23 

into  the  great  confusions  and  traffic  of  the  Land  of 
Darkness,  and  startled  many,  Uke  the  cry  of  a 
child  caUing  and  calling,  and  never  ceasing, 
"  Come  !  and  come  !  and  come  !  " 


University  Press,  Cambridge ;  John  Wilson  &  Son. 


UNIVEESITY   OF  CALirORNIA   LIBEARY 
BERKELEY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 

STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  per  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


mn  28  1918 


ML 


r/>g 


16DeC'64DT 


vD 


^Ivtl^^ 


\^6t 


<)AN  24  It 

101977     gjl 


iH  STACKS 

^^'N  1  0  1977 


50m-7,'16 


U   C   BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CD55SS77fiD 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


